Tears Such as Angels Weep
by whirlyite
Summary: The river such is life ebbs and flows onwards in its course violently heedless of our desires, bearing both heartache and happiness, impenetrable darkness and blinding light, depths of sorrow and heights of joy.  We have no choice, we must endure.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story continues events at the end of 'Never Give In' and later expands to involve the OCs introduced in my previous story 'A Mother's Love.' I have taken a bit of artistic license with the first two paragraphs, as the catchphrases quoted were not widely popularized until a few years after I cite them, although this particular program had been on the air for two years by 1953. Extra points if you know what the Newkirk boys' favorite radio program was._

**Chapter 1 – In the Valley of Shadow**

**November 1953**

_"If you are going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill_

Robbie and Andrew shrieked with laughter as their father, RAF Flight Lieutenant Peter Newkirk, expertly mimicked the characters from their favorite radio program. "You rotten swine, you! You've deaded me!" "Owwwwwwwww!" "I'll see that you get Needle Nardle Noo with Scrimson Scanson for that!" "We'll all be murdered in our beds!" "You silly twisted boy!"

Six and a half year old Robbie convulsed on the sofa, laughing so hard he could barely speak. He finally was able to gasp out, "Da...Da...sing the Ying Tong Song!"

"Let me catch me breath for a moment Robbie," sighed Peter as he reached over to tousle Andrew's hair. Two months shy of his second birthday, Andrew was too young to understand the humor but he giggled at the spectacularly wild hilarity of his brother and father.

"Jo?" Peter called to his wife. She had remained in the kitchen to prepare them a bit of dessert after he had cleared and washed up the dinner dishes. As he had just completed his Initial Officer Training, he had been granted a few days' leave; he had enthusiastically assumed mess duty each evening now that Jo was beginning to feel the various discomforts that were part and parcel of being seven months along in expecting their third child. He called again, "Jo darlin', you're missin' all the fun!"

He was answered by an anguished cry, followed by the startlingly frightening crash of dishes hitting the floor. Peter jumped to his feet and rushed to the kitchen. "Jo! Jo, what's wrong?"

Jo was crouched on her knees, clutching her belly, a pool of pink-tinged water puddled on the floor beneath her. She stared at Peter, her eyes wide with fear. She cried, "It's too early! Oh God, Peter...it's too early!

He automatically went into emergency mode, forcibly shunting his surging emotions off to the side for now. He gently lifted Jo to a seat at the dining table then went back to the lounge to reassure the boys and herd them to their room, calmly telling them that their mum needed to go to the base hospital. He asked Robbie to keep his brother Andrew occupied whilst their mother tried to regain her composure, then rushed to pack an overnight bag for her. He ran back to check on Jo before he called the base medical officer to let him know what had happened and inform him that they would soon be on the way. He then called his in-laws and asked them to come to the base as soon as possible. He simply told them he was taking Jo to the hospital but gave no details as he didn't want to alarm them at this point. Jo's mum immediately realized the seriousness of the situation by the oddly unemotional inflection in Peter's voice.

"Don't worry Peter! We will leave right now!"

"Thank you mum. I've got to get Jo to 'ospital now. Please meet me there." He rang off and went to get the boys and Jo out to the car.

* * *

><p>Peter drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other one tightly clasping Jo's. He constantly glanced over at her, marveling at her ability to speak calmly and reassuringly to both he and the boys. Despite her distress, she forced herself to assume a mantle of normality for all their sakes' during the short drive to the base hospital. She even took the time to give Robbie, Andrew <em>and<em> Andrew's favorite teddy a kiss and hug before Peter eased her out of the car and into a wheelchair. After he wheeled her inside to reception, she drew both of the boys close and whispered to them, "Don't worry my darlings! They will take good care of me here. Please help your Da, he'll need you close by whilst I'm with the doctors."

Robbie nodded, green eyes wide in his pale face. "Yes mum."

Peter leaned down to kiss her tenderly as he placed his hand gently on her distended belly. He stared at her helplessly and desperately searched for something to say. "Jo darlin', I...I..." his voice broke and he couldn't continue. He had been chuffed to bits when Jo had told him she was expecting again. How could this be happening? There had been no complications with either of the boys.

Jo gently caressed his face and nodded. "I know darling. I know."

Peter straightened to stand beside the boys and he watched sadly as Jo was whisked away to the emergency treatment area. As she disappeared behind the doors, he sighed heavily and crouched down to lift a drowsy Andrew into his arms. He took Robbie's hand and slowly made his way to the waiting area. Now alone with the boys, he suddenly found himself nearly hyperventilating with anxiety, and he had to stop for a moment to furiously beat his panic back down. Never in his life had he felt such an irrational, gut-clenching fear; even during the war he had never faced such an all-encompassing, overwhelming dread. The only other occasion he remembered feeling this helpless was when he and Mavis watched over their mum as she passed.

Robbie silently watched his father struggling to calm himself, his own fear growing. As they sat down in the waiting area, he asked, "Da, what's wrong with mum?"

Peter closed his eyes briefly and then turned to his oldest son. "We're not sure yet Robbie. We think the baby's comin' already."

"Really?" Robbie thought a baby's birth was supposed to be a happy occasion. "Then why are you so sad?"

"It's...it's a little too early son." He wrapped his arm around Robbie and pulled him to his side. "We 'ave to wait and see what 'appens."

"Yes Da." Still uncertain as to what to think, Robbie leaned into Peter's comforting embrace and idly watched Andrew fall asleep. He turned his head so he could hear his father's heartbeat and soon joined his brother in slumber.

* * *

><p>Mary and Angus arrived several hours later to find Peter slumped on the sofa of the waiting lounge, head bowed low, his empty, haunted gaze fixed on the floor. The boys lay half nestled in his arms and half sprawled across his lap, asleep. They paused a moment and then quietly approached. Since Peter acted as if he didn't see them standing there right before him, Angus stepped forward to lay a gentle hand on top of his head. Peter shuddered slightly and slowly raised his head to reveal a mask of raw pain. He stared at the two of them glassy-eyed and unseeing before he whispered, "Don't wake me boys…please." Angus looked at his wife, who shook her head sadly. He crouched down and took his son-in-law's face in his hands, forcing him to focus. He spoke softly in simple short sentences.<p>

"Peter lad? Look at me. It's Angus, son. Speak tae me."

Peter stared at his father-in-law, then frowned and blinked rapidly as if awakening from a trance. "Angus?" he gasped. "Is it you?"

"Aye lad." He released Peter's face and gestured to his wife. "Mary's here as well."

"She…is?"

"Aye, aye, she is." Angus reached out to grasp Peter's shoulder. "Please lad, tell us, what has happened tae our Josephine?"

Peter lowered his head for a moment, then raised anguished, tear-filled eyes to his in-laws. He closed them tightly, causing the tears to spill over down his cheeks. He finally found the ability to speak and choked out a hoarse whisper. "We…that is…Jo…oh God!" his voice broke and Angus gently squeezed his shoulder.

"C'mon lad, yer doin' fine."

"Jo…" his voice hitched and he dropped his head down again. He choked back a sob and finally gasped out, "Jo…lost the…baby….still-stillborn."

Mary slapped her hands across her mouth to smother the scream that clawed its way up from deep within her. She leaned heavily upon Angus and he released his grip on Peter to catch his wife as she collapsed into his arms.

* * *

><p>As Jo was to be kept sedated for quite some time and the doctor wanted her to rest undisturbed, Peter decided to drive the boys and their grandparents back to his quarters. He had fallen back into automatic pilot, intending to get them comfortably settled in before he returned to the hospital to spend the rest of the night beside Jo. Now that the boys were tucked in their beds and his in-laws ensconced in the guest room, he was finally satisfied that everyone was taken care of. As he made his way across the lounge to leave for the hospital, he caught sight of Andrew's teddy bear lying on the floor where it had apparently fallen when he carried his sleeping son inside. When he bent over to pick it up, his knees suddenly and unexpectedly buckled and he collapsed onto the floor to sit stunned and silent. As he tightly clutched the stuffed bear to his chest his eyes glazed with tears and he unconsciously began rocking ever so slightly. Mary had observed him from the hallway and she now approached to gently grasp his shoulder.<p>

"Dear Peter, please don't grieve so. God needed your precious little angel..."

"No mum! Don't say that! What kind of God would do that?" he shouted. She recoiled from him a bit and he softened his words upon catching sight of the naked pain on her face. "I'm sorry mum, I know you mean well but, but if that were true 'e should 'ave plenty of angels up there in 'eaven right about now after all the little ones what died in the war. 'e don't need to poach anymore from down 'ere! Especially not mine!" He lowered his head and mumbled to himself. "No, especially not mine. 'eaven should be about full by now, don't ya think?"

Mary dropped her head and nodded sadly. "I'm sorry Peter, I didn't mean to upset you further. I only meant..."

Peter turned away and his shoulders heaved as he tried to stem the relentlessly swelling tide of agony roiling up from within. Angus came near and put his arm around his wife to steer her out of the room. "C'mon lass, gae and tend tae the boys, all right? Gae on noo..."

She left and Angus shook his head as he watched her shuffle slowly down the hallway. He turned to rejoin Peter. "Like ye said lad, she meant well."

Peter didn't reply, seeking to keep his steadily encroaching despair at bay, as Angus continued, "Son, ye need tae know that the same happened with Mary an' me."

Shocked, Peter raised his head and tried to focus his tear-filled eyes on his father-in-law. "You...you...mean...?"

Angus nodded sadly. "Aye, our first. T'would've been Jo's older brother had he lived. Mary took it hard, real hard." He looked up towards the ceiling and sighed heavily. "That's why she likes tae think of the wee bairn as an angel. She canna accept it any other way."

Peter felt the hollow pain in the pit of his stomach erupt anew. He closed his eyes with a wince. "Oh Cor! I'm...I'm so sorry Angus. Jo never told me. Does...does she even know?"

"Nae, since it were before she was born we ne'er told her. I'd like tae keep it that way, but if Mary chooses tae speak of it tae help comfort the dear girl that's her choice."

Peter nodded dumbly. Finally approaching the limit of his endurance, he dropped his face into his hands. Angus came near and wrapped his arm about his son-in-law's shoulder. "I'm heartily sorry for ye and my Josephine, Peter my lad. I'd nae wish this pain on my worst enemy. I can only tell ye that I know how ye feel, lad, I do indeed, and that I'm so verra, verra sorry."

"My little girl...oh God...my little girl," Peter moaned. He could no longer hold it in and he began sobbing uncontrollably. Angus wrapped his arms around his son-in-law in a futile effort to comfort him.

"Gae on lad, gae on. There's nae shame in yer grief. Ye have just lost a part of yerself, son. There's nae shame. It was nae one's fault. The little lamb just...just wasn't strong enough, that's all."

Peter turned to lean into Angus' chest and he wept unashamedly as his heart broke for his beloved Jo and their little lost daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 –After the First Death There is No Other**

_"Only the broken-hearted know the truth about love." - Mason Cooley_

The last thing he remembered was collapsing distraught into his father-in-law's arms. He tried to open his eyes but they were so raw and swollen it felt better to keep them closed. There was a refreshing coolness on his face and he reached up to find a cold, damp cloth lying across his eyes. He started to remove it and someone took his hand to direct it away from his face. He startled a bit and cried out, "What…who…?"

"Peter dear, it's Mary. Don't upset yourself. Lie still."

Still a bit confused, he blurted out, "Where am I?" He had been on his way to see Jo, hadn't he?

"You're on the sofa dear." Mary somehow divined his thoughts. "You're still at home Peter."

"I…am?" He grew increasingly frustrated as he couldn't seem to get his thinking straightened out. He felt a stinging remorse as he suddenly remembered that he had been quite churlish with his mother-in-law. "Mum, I…I want to apologize for shouting at you. I 'ad no right to do that." He swept the cloth from his face and sat up to look Mary in her eyes. He took her hands in his before he spoke. "I…I didn't know mum. Angus told me. I'm…I'm so sorry…." His breath hitched and he began breathing deeply, trying to avoid breaking down again.

Mary nodded, tears coursing down her face. "I understand Peter. Please believe me, I didn't take offense. You're upset and understandably so. It's torn my heart to pieces that you and Jo should have to go through this."

Peter nodded, unable to speak, and Mary gently laid her hand on his brow. "You're exhausted and in pain, dear. Please lie back down and rest."

"The boys…?"

"…are still asleep," she finished.

"I want to go see Jo, mum!" She firmly nudged him back down onto the sofa as he spoke.

"One of your friends called whilst you were asleep and he came by to take Angus to hospital. Her father's watching over her for you."

"Who…?"

"A Flight Lieutenant Collins, I believe?"

_Good ol' Billy!_ The MO must've called him. He should've known Billy would be there for him as soon as he found out what happened. Even though they'd known each other less than a year, Billy was easily his closest friend on base. Peter found himself glad that Angus was there with Jo; still, he wanted to be there when Jo awoke, no, he _needed_ to be there to enfold her into his arms and do what he could to comfort her. He tried to sit up again but an unexpected wave of exhaustion overwhelmed him. His eyes closed involuntarily and he drifted off again.

Mary refreshed the cloth and placed it back over his eyes. _Poor dear! Rest for now._

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Angus came into the lounge and Peter suddenly startled awake, somehow aware of his father-in-law's arrival. He shook his head, trying to quickly clear it and gestured. "Angus? 'ow's Jo? 'as she woken up yet?"<p>

He sat on the sofa beside Peter and grasped him at his shoulders. "Nae, she hasna awoken yet lad. The doctors feel it's better that she sleep."

"They can't keep 'er sedated forever! I've got to see 'er!"

"I know lad, I know. That's why I came back. Young Billy is in the car awaitin' ye."

"Oh!" Peter was caught off-guard and bolted up to dash out the door. He doubled back and called, "Please tell the boys I've gone to see their mum and not to worry. Everythin's gonna be all right." He ran out the door, shutting it quickly with a slam.

Both Mary and Angus nodded, and Mary whispered, "I hope and pray so, Peter."

* * *

><p>As Peter slid into the passenger seat, Billy reached over to grasp his friend's shoulder for a brief moment. "I'm really sorry mate," he murmured.<p>

Peter nodded and gave him a sad smile, "Ta Billy."

Billy put both hands back on the wheel and they took off. The short ride to the base hospital was made in silence, each man keeping his thoughts to himself. Peter jumped out of the car before Billy had even pulled to a complete stop.

"Blimey Peter! You could wait a bit couldn't ya?" Billy exclaimed.

"Sorry mate, I've gotta go see my Jo!" he called back over his shoulder.

"No worries Peter! I'll stay here with yer car."

"Ta mate!" Peter replied as he disappeared inside. As he entered reception, he stopped for a moment to get his bearings and was immediately intercepted by the base MO, Wing Commander Owen.

"Flight Lieutenant Newkirk, may I have a word please?"

"Sir? Oh yes sir." He saluted and then went to ease. He really needed to get himself sorted out; he should have come to attention and saluted as soon as he saw the Wing Commander approach.

Thankfully the MO didn't take him to task for his lapse of decorum and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to draw him away from the busy reception area. "Son, I need to discuss your wife's condition with you before you go see her."

"Yes sir." Peter nodded, his anxiety increasing as he accompanied the MO to his office.

Owen sat down at his desk and gestured for Peter to sit. He steepled his hands in front of his face before he spoke. "Let me say first that I am so very sorry for your loss. As I'm sure you've been told, your wife endured quite a difficult delivery. We'd like to keep her in hospital for the next few days to keep her under observation. I'd also like to begin an antibiotic regimen to forestall any infection."

Peter swallowed hard before he answered, "Of...of course sir. Whatever you think is best."

Owen took a deep breath before he nodded and looked Peter directly in his eyes. "Did the attending physician explain to you about the prospects for any future pregnancies?"

Peter sighed, "Yes sir, 'e did."

"Very well Flight Lieutenant." The MO cleared his throat and continued, "I know you want to spend as much time as possible with your wife during her recovery but please believe me when I tell you it may not be the best thing for her right now. I wish her to rest as much as possible and your presence may upset her unnecessarily, if you understand my meaning."

"No sir, I'm afraid I don't," Peter answered, genuinely puzzled.

"I am just preparing you for the possibility that your wife may blame _you_ for this tragedy."

The MO's statement rendered Peter momentarily speechless. He shook his head vigorously. "No sir, my Jo wouldn't do that!"

"Son, it has been my experience that each woman grieves differently, but that at some point in a loss such as this, they tend to cast blame on the father." He raised his hand to stop Peter from interrupting. "I know it doesn't make any sense. They don't really mean it, it's just that the loss is so overwhelming they must make some attempt to justify it. Sometimes they lash out at the husband simply because you are there."

"Beggin' your pardon sir, but I still don't think my Jo would do that."

"Well son, I hope for your sake you are right, just do not be surprised if you aren't. The only healing balm we can prescribe for a loss such as this is the passage of time." He gave Peter a quick nod. "Dismissed Flight Lieutenant."

"Thank you sir." Peter jumped to his feet, came to attention and saluted before he dashed out the door.

* * *

><p>He entered Jo's room to pause beside the bed and stood silent, looking down sadly at her. He pondered once again why a woman such as she willingly chose to spend the rest of her life with the likes of him. He sighed and sat down to clasp her hand in his before he reached over to tenderly caress her cheek, grateful for the sacrifices she made for he and the boys.<p>

He patiently waited at his wife's side as the sedatives gradually wore off. After an hour or so, he thought he noticed her stirring a bit. She brought a trembling hand up to her forehead, slowly opening her eyes to blink repeatedly as she came back to full consciousness. She then noticed Peter sitting beside her and the sight of his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes brought everything back to her. _Oh God, it hadn't been a nightmare after all!_

Peter leaned down and smoothed her hair back off her face. "'ey darlin'," he whispered. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and she struggled to speak.

"Oh...Peter, I'm...I'm so...so...sorry...I lost...her...I lost...our...d-daughter!" She began sobbing halfway through, her words hitching with each breath and Peter immediately moved to sit on the side of the bed to gather her tightly within his arms. He held her close and gently crooned to her, seeking to calm her.

"Peter," sobbed Jo. "She...she was...was so...so beautiful..."

He gently caressed her hair as he replied in a broken voice, "Of course she was darlin'. You...you were 'er mum." His voice dissolved into low sobs as well and they clung to each other, grieving together as one.

After a few minutes he murmured into her ear. "You've nothin' to apologize for! You 'ad nothin' to do with it Jo! Nothin'! There's no blame and no guilt, d'ya 'ear me Josephine Ferguson Newkirk?" His voice hitched a bit and he took a deep breath before he continued. "You did everythin' right Jo, just like you did with the boys! For some reason, this little darlin' was born sleepin' that's all."

She heard his voice crack again and she wrapped her arms about him to lean her head against his chest as he continued speaking softly to her. "I loved you when I asked you to be me wife and I love you even more now. Nothin' will ever change that Jo! We can't blame each other because there's no blame 'ere. We 'ave to bear this sorrow darlin', we simply 'ave to! We can't let it swallow us up. We've got two precious lads who need us." He kissed the top of her head and caressed her hair. "Now I want you to get as much rest as you can, alright? Don't worry about anythin' darlin'. Yer mum and dad are 'ere watchin' after the boys and they'll be in to see you a little later." He pulled away and gently pushed her back into the bed before he leaned down to kiss her again. "Don't worry darlin'. You just rest. Later, when you think yer ready, we can try again."

"B-But the doctors said..."

"I know what they said darlin'. That's their job, to give us their opinions. They ain't God."

Jo nodded, still not convinced. She knew her body and this loss had done something terrible to it.

Peter kissed her again, trying his best to reassure her. "I love you my bonny girl. Promise me you'll rest and not worry yerself." He gently caressed her face. "C'mon Jo, sleep for now."

She took comfort from her husband's voice and soon felt herself drifting off. She murmured, "Kiss the boys for me?"

"You know I will darlin'. Now you rest easy." He stayed at her side until he was satisfied she had fallen back to sleep. He debated for a moment, then got up and quietly walked to the door, as he still needed to call Mavis to let her know what had happened. He turned before he went out and looked back at his wife, praying they both would be able to overcome this tragedy.

* * *

><p>He sat Robbie down the next day to explain what had happened to his mother. He drew his oldest son close with an arm about his shoulders.<p>

"You're not going to have a little sister after all, son."

"Why Da? What happened?"

"She…she passed away Robbie. She…died before she was delivered."

"Was it something mum did?"

"No son, not at all!"

Robbie thought for a moment and his voice quavered a bit as he asked, "Was it something I did?"

Peter swept his eldest son into his arms and hugged him tightly. "No my lad, no! Don't even think of such a thing Robbie! It was no one's fault. Something went wrong and the little lass just...just wasn't ready to live, that's all." He tried to keep his emotions close but the last sentence he spoke unleashed unexpectedly great heaving sobs from deep within him.

Robbie, shocked to see his father so upset, began crying as well. They held each other tightly as each grieved the loss of what could have been. Peter eventually managed to crush his surging emotions back down inside and he pulled Robbie away to sit him on his lap. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes, then tidied Robbie up a bit. He put his hands on his son's shoulders and looked directly in his hurt, puzzled eyes.

"Robbie, yer mum's gonna be in 'ospital for a few days, just so the doctors can make sure she's all right."

Robbie nodded. "Are gran and grandad going to stay with us Da?"

"Yes, son. Yer gran and grandad are gonna stay for as long as we need them to. Yer Auntie Mave will be comin' as well." He shifted Robbie a bit and continued, "When yer mum comes 'ome, she's not gonna be feelin' very good. She's gonna be very sad because, because of what 'appened with the baby. She's more'n likely gonna be cryin' a lot. It 'as nothing to do with you or Andrew, understand? It doesn't mean you've done anythin' wrong. She's…she's only gonna be missin'…." Peter stopped and looked up to the ceiling, trying to get his voice back under control. "She'll be missin' the baby and that's why she'll be sad."

Robbie nodded again.

"I need you to 'elp me Robbie. I need you to 'elp me 'elp yer mum through this. What do you say?"

Robbie threw himself into Peter's arms. "Yes, Da. I don't want mum to be sad."

"None of us do, son. But it's something that we just 'ave to deal with. Nothin' but time is goin' to 'elp yer mum. Try not to aggravate 'er, okay? I know yer still young and I'm sorry to put this burden on you. I really am. But we need to 'elp each other through this sad time."

Robbie nodded yet again from his position against his father's chest. Peter hugged him tight and leaned down to lay his cheek on top of Robbie's head. "Thank you son."

_A/N: The chapter title is the last line of the poem "A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London" by Dylan Thomas. Interesting poem._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Where Do Broken Hearts Go?**

"_There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love." - Washington Irving_

Peter left the boys with their grandparents when he drove to the hospital to bring Jo home. He had stayed by her side as much as he possibly could whilst she recovered in hospital, though most of the time she had remained either partially or completely sedated at the doctors' insistence. Because of that, he had no idea what her state of mind would be and he wanted to spend his wife's first few moments outside of hospital alone with her. To be honest, he was frightened; hell, he was more than frightened, he was scared to death. Scared that the fallout from this tragedy had the very real potential to tear their marriage asunder. The MO's words echoed endlessly through his mind and he struggled to dismiss them. He felt abnormally anxious and off-kilter as he made his way slowly to hospital.

He sighed to himself. Life before the war had been difficult enough. Life during the war had been even more difficult. It had never occurred to him that life after the war would be just as difficult. He finally arrived and fetched Jo to the car. He lifted her easily and settled her in the passenger seat, then took the wheelchair back inside.

Jo sat quietly as Peter got in the car and sat for a moment, preparing to drive back to their quarters. She glanced over at him once or twice, wondering if he was feeling the same as she, namely, completely detached from reality. She was absolutely drained in every facet of her existence, physically, emotionally and mentally. She keenly experienced the void left by the premature delivery in the strangest manner; her mind and body physically refused to accept what had happened and continued to react as though the baby still lived within. Her heart, however, registered the soul-numbing truth. She felt nothing but emptiness as Peter reached to take her hand. She clutched his in return, desperately craving the reassuring comfort she normally took from his touch, but was disturbed to find no such consolation now.

He could see she was in no mood to talk and simply looked at her sideways to murmur sadly, "I love you darlin'."

She nodded, unwilling to speak for fear of breaking down again. She dropped her head down, puzzled by a sudden surge of raw anger. He brought her hand up to his lips for a quick kiss before he released it to turn his attention to driving. She didn't look at him as he put the car in gear and slowly accelerated out of the hospital drive.

They arrived back home shortly and he gathered Jo up into his arms to carry her from the car to their quarters. He headed to take her directly to their bedroom but she asked him to set her down on the sofa so as to visit with her mum and dad.

"Are you sure you feel up to it darlin'? They can come to our bedroom to see you."

She felt another upwelling surge of unreasoning irritation at him for simply inquiring after her welfare, but managed to squelch it down somewhat. She spoke without looking at him. "Yes Peter, I'm fine. I would like to see mum and dad in the lounge instead of the bedroom if you don't mind, now please put me on the sofa." She moved to give him an icy glare as she spoke and then just as suddenly turned her face away from him.

Peter blinked in surprise at the uncharacteristically hard, flat tone of her voice, but nodded and did as she asked. He recovered himself somewhat and murmured as he set her down, "Let me know when yer ready darlin' and I'll 'elp you to bed."

She nodded curtly in reply and he gently eased her down. He went to the bedroom to retrieve several pillows and a coverlet to make her a bit more comfortable as she reclined on the sofa. She snatched them from his hands and refused his efforts to help her settle in. He tried again and she hissed through clenched teeth, "Don't touch me! I can do it myself! Please, just go get the boys!"

Stepping back in shocked bewilderment, he opened his mouth to speak then decided against it. He quickly composed himself before he went to get the boys to bring them into the lounge to welcome their mother home. He watched as they happily clambered up onto the sofa to hug and kiss their mum; thankfully Jo responded with the same and encircled them both within her arms. Peter then made himself scarce whilst Angus and Mary came in to see their daughter. Hurt and confused, he headed outside.

Fifteen minutes later, Angus looked around, puzzled by Peter's obvious absence. He patted Jo on the arm and left her to her mother's comforting attention. He walked out the front door and saw his son-in-law leaning against the hood of the car, shoulders bowed and head hung low. He called out before he approached, "Peter lad?"

"Over here Angus," sighed Peter. He straightened up as his father-in-law came near.

Angus walked over to the car and took Peter by the shoulders. He peered intently into his son-in-law's face for a moment before he spoke, "Have ye ever been in a storm at sea lad?"

Peter frowned and shook his head, a bit surprised by Angus' query. "No, never 'ave. Been in some nasty storms up in the air though, some real nasty metallic storms." He would never forget the furious clang and clatter of the ack-ack that took his Wellington down over Bremen back in 1940.

"I canna say I know what ye mean as I havenae been in the air but t'was a horrible storm when we crossed t'channel back in 1915 on our way to France. It were an experience I'd nae want to repeat." He shook his head at the memory. "Listen tae me son. What you're dealin' with here is a storm, the worst kind of storm a man must face. This is a storm ye must ride out at all costs. Ye canna abandon ship nor bail out, nae matter how bad it gets. D'ye ken what I'm tellin' ye?"

Peter nodded soberly. "Yes sir, I'm afraid I do." He dropped his head back down and murmured, "I just don't understand Angus. We love each other! I love Jo with all me 'eart! 'ow can this be 'appenin'?"

Angus sighed and tightened his grip on Peter's shoulders. "I know what ye mean son. There's nae rhyme or reason. That's why it's so like a storm, it overtakes ye suddenly and if ye aren't careful, ye might not come out alive."

Peter looked up in panic. "Don't say that Angus! You and Mary survived!"

Angus chuckled. "By the skin of our teeth Peter m'boy, by the skin of our teeth!" He suddenly turned deadly serious. "Son, ye need tae realize that Josephine willnae be as ye have known her. She's suffered a grievous loss we men canna fully understand. Ye have tae be strong for t'both of you. Mary and I will try our best tae shield the bairns as much as possible whilst you and Jo work this out."

"Oh God!" cried Peter. He dropped his hands into his face. "Why did this 'ave to 'appen? Now of all times? We'd just gotten on our feet and things were lookin' up."

"As the good book says, 'Time and chance happeneth to us all', son."

Peter nodded forlornly. "I didn't believe the MO when 'e told me this would 'appen. I…I just didn't think my Jo would be…this way…." He looked up at his father-in-law. "It's no one's fault Angus! 'ow can she blame me? What could I 'ave possibly done?"

Angus sighed, "Peter lad, Josephine will be sayin' and doin' things even she doesnae know why. My poor Mary verra nearly lost her mind wi' the grief. Ye canna lay any kind o'sense to it. Ye can only try tae stay strong. It'll nae be easy lad."

"'ow long?" whispered Peter.

Angus knew exactly what Peter was asking and he shook his head as he answered. "There's nae timetable lad. Some get o'er it quick like, others not so quick." He paused a moment, then murmured, "And some ne'er get o'er it."

* * *

><p>The day after Jo was released from hospital, they held a small, heartbreaking funeral service at the base chapel, with the attendees comprising only family and close friends. Angus and Mary, Mavis and General Robert Hogan clustered around the bereaved Newkirks, trying to offer some small measure of comfort by their presence. Peter hadn't told anyone else, not even Louis, Katrin or his mates in America. He knew he probably should have told them, as he considered them all as his family, but it hurt far too much to even recall what had happened, much less recount it over and over. General Hogan had asked Peter if he wanted him to discreetly communicate the news to their overseas friends, but Peter had declined his offer. The immediacy of this agonizing loss proved far too painful and private.<p>

The boys were not present at the service, as Jo hadn't wanted to subject them to such a distressing event. She felt that they had already been exposed to far too much of their parents' overwhelming grief. Billy had volunteered to watch over them at home, rather than leave them in the care of a complete stranger.

Peter and Jo sat in the front row of the base chapel, the tiny casket carefully balanced across Peter's lap. Jo crossed her arms atop it and buried her head onto them. She didn't lift her head at all and wept uncontrollably during the entire ceremony. Peter held the casket steady with one hand and kept his other hand on Jo's back, gently massaging between her shoulders. Mary sat next to Jo with her arms wrapped around her grieving daughter. Mavis sat in the row directly behind Peter, leaning forward with her arms hugging his neck. Angus sat flanking Peter on the other side, his hand clasping his son-in-law's shoulder. The General knelt in front of Peter and Jo.

Peter sat with his head bowed, silent tears flowing down his face, barely comprehending the chaplain's words. What could the man possibly say to make him feel better? There was nothing in the world that would offer him any comfort from this loss. He concentrated instead on drawing unexpected strength from his father-in-law's strong grip, as well as the knowledge that Angus had survived the same devastating loss. If Angus could do it, so could he, couldn't he? Well, couldn't he?

The funeral service finally ended and they made the short trip to the village cemetery. The graveside service at Newtown Road Cemetery was brief, yet no less mournful. Closure of this horribly deep wound would be a long time coming, if at all.

After the chaplain closed the service, Peter insisted that Angus and Mary take Jo back home. The General, sensing his English friend's need for solitude, volunteered to accompany them. Mavis, on the other hand, flatly refused to leave her older brother alone as he watched the sexton pile the earth back into the pathetically small grave. Peter stood stoically silent despite the tears streaming down his cheeks. Mavis sagged against him, periodically sobbing, her arms wrapped about his chest. He had his arm around her waist and they supported each other whilst this last sad duty was completed.

He turned to Mavis and patted her hand. "Just…just a minute Mave." He knelt down beside the tiny grave and plucked a small, perfectly formed rosebud from the large arrangement sent by the General. He shielded it carefully within his hand as he wrapped his other arm around Mavis. Together, they slowly made their way back to the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – The Risk of Love**

"_Love hurts, love scars, love wounds and marks, any heart, not tough or strong enough." - Boudleaux Bryant_

"I'm sorry you 'aveta rush back off to London Mave." Peter briefly glanced over at Mavis as he drove home from the cemetery. "Though I can't really blame ya. A good job's still 'ard to come by nowadays. I don't want you to do anythin' to jeopardize that."

Mavis nodded sadly. "I'm sorry too brother. I wish I could stay and 'elp you and Jo with the boys, but me boss acted like 'e did me a huge favor to let me come for the funeral." She reached over and took his hand. "I 'ope and pray you both find some peace soon."

"Me too Mave. Me too." He had chosen not to give Mavis any details regarding he and Jo's increasingly difficult relationship since the baby's death. He vowed to keep his grief on that matter private. Mave didn't need to worry about him any more than she already did. He felt his emotions rising to the surface again and tried to redirect the conversation. "Don't worry yerself Mave, Angus and Mary will be stayin' on a bit longer to 'elp out with the boys."

"Oh I'm glad to 'ear that! They'll be a great comfort to Jo, I'm sure."

Peter sighed heavily and Mavis looked over at him in concern. She sensed there was a sorrow within her brother beyond the loss of the baby. Mavis had unsuccessfully tried to comfort Jo as best she could, but that was to be expected with a tragedy such as this still so fresh. She reckoned that Jo would have to somehow find the strength to recover with the loving help of her husband, her parents and the passage of time.

They finally arrived home and Mavis put her hand on Peter's arm before he exited the car. "Peter, I know things will be...a bit dodgy for a little while. Don't give up. Jo will come round when she's ready. Everythin' will be all right."

Peter shook his head. "Cor Mave, 'ow did you know? Is it that obvious?"

"I can tell you're 'urtin' aside from what 'appened with the baby."

Peter pulled his little sister into a hug and held her tight for a few moments. "Thanks Mave," he murmured. He released her and exited the car to walk around to the passenger side. As he opened the door to let Mavis out, he couldn't resist a tease and caught her attention with a snarky, "Poor Billy. He was 'opin' you'd stick around for a bit. I think I'll ask 'im if he'd like to take you to the train station."

Mavis snorted in reply and headed past him to enter the front door with no comment.

* * *

><p>Peter periodically made sincere efforts to comfort his wife but ended up giving Jo a wide berth for the rest of that day. He told himself he would come to grips with the situation come bedtime. When evening finally came, he put the boys to bed and ensured that his in-laws were comfortable before he guided Jo to their bedroom. He sat her down on the edge of the bed before he very gingerly lowered himself to sit beside her. He couldn't help but notice that she shifted away imperceptibly as he sat down and he bit his lip to keep himself calm. He spoke slowly and softly, as if gently coaxing a frightened kitten. "Jo please listen to me. We 'ave to start tonight darlin'. We can't let even one day go by with us afraid of each other like this. I know yer hurtin' and scared darlin', but we can't be walkin' on eggshells around each other. Please trust me darlin'. Please?"<p>

She didn't reply, so he very gently nudged her shoulders down and helped her settle down into their bed. He covered her with the comforter and then eased himself into the other side of the bed. He reached to gently take her hand in his and she stiffened, although she herself didn't understand why she did so. Her reaction was obvious to him but he acted as if he hadn't noticed, although to tell the truth, it broke his heart all over again.

He brought her hand up to his lips for a gentle kiss and whispered, "This is all for now, alright darlin'? I'd like to fall asleep holdin' yer hand if it doesn't bother you too much." He sighed heavily and clasped her hand against his chest, over his heart.

She sighed as well and murmured, "Of course it is." She felt completely lost and confused. Her mind simply couldn't overrule her heart. Somewhere deep down inside she knew he was just as hurt and lost as she was. "Oh Peter, I'm...I'm so...very sorry..."

"Now darlin' you've no need to apologize. We'll take it slow and easy. We'll get through this together."

She nodded as tears welled up in her eyes again. He brought her hand up again for another tender kiss and whispered, "Go ahead and cry darlin'. Go ahead." He wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and murmur lovingly to her but restrained himself as he didn't want to alienate her any further. The last thing he wanted was for the gap between the two of them to increase and he swore to take it slow for Jo's sake. He listened intently as her sobs gradually receded and her soft, steady breathing told him she was asleep. He lay wide awake for far too long a time before he finally succumbed to sleep.

As he slowly rose to consciousness the next morning, he reached for Jo as he always did each morning. He was surprised to find himself alone in their bed. "Jo? Jo? Where are ya darlin'?" he called out anxiously. There was a soft knock at the door. "Who's there?"

"It's Mary, Peter. May I come in?"

He reached to grab his robe, quickly threw it on and replied, "Yes, please."

His mother-in-law stepped into the room, leaving the door open. She stood by the side of the bed. "How are you feeling this morning dear?"

He hadn't expected that and didn't answer immediately. For some reason, the question flustered him. He really didn't know how he was feeling. Shocked? Devastated? Numb? Anxious? Angry? Frightened? Confused? Incredibly hurt? How about all of the above? He gave Mary a forced smile instead. "I'm…I'm copin' mum. 'ow's Jo? Where is she?"

Mary looked down. "She's in the boys' room, sleeping beside Andrew's crib. I found her wandering in the lounge very early this morning. When I tried to take her back to your bed, she insisted I make her a pallet on the floor between Robbie's bed and Andrew's crib. She would not be persuaded otherwise. She…she asked her father to set up a cot for her there for tonight."

Peter sighed heavily. _Angus was right! This bleedin' storm's already started!_ He climbed out of bed, tying his robe around him, and headed for the boys' room. Mary followed, trying to forestall him.

"Peter, please don't. Andrew is still asleep and I don't think…" she left off uncertainly at her son-in-law's continuing silence. He crept into his sons' bedroom to kneel beside the pallet where Jo lay asleep on her side. He grasped her shoulder and gently shook it.

"Jo? Jo? Please wake up darlin'." She sighed and frowned without opening her eyes. "Please darlin', I need to talk to you Jo." He began to feel desperately afraid. "C'mon darlin'! Please?"

She finally opened her eyes and stared up at him blankly. He reached to lift her to a sitting position, again noting how her body automatically stiffened in response to his touch. Mary brought two mugs of coffee in and Peter took them both. "Thanks mum." He looked around, noticing for the first time since entering the room that Robbie's bed was empty. "Where's Robbie?"

Mary answered him quietly, "He's in with his grandad right now." Peter nodded his thanks to his mother-in-law and she left them alone. He passed Jo one of the mugs; she took it and immediately began sipping at it, grateful for the distraction.

Peter took a few sips himself, and then began, "Jo darlin', what's wrong?" He instantly realized how lame that sounded and backtracked. "I…I meant…other than…." he trailed off, wishing he could express himself better. He plunged on to the heart of what really bothered him. "Why did you leave our bed last night without tellin' me Jo?"

She looked down into her coffee to avoid his gaze before she answered him. "Peter, I…I don't know why. I know that I just…had to get away. I felt like I had…I had to come check on Andrew. He's still a baby and I don't want to lose him too. I've asked dad to set up our extra cot here so I can keep an eye on him."

Peter didn't understand why she thought Andrew needed such close oversight and said so. "Jo I don't see why you 'ave to sleep in 'ere with Andrew, 'e's nearly two years old. You never did before. Besides, Robbie is 'ere right with 'im each night."

Jo's eyes flashed with an inexplicably spiking anger and she lashed out at her husband, "I never lost a child before either Peter!" She accidentally upset her mug and coffee splashed everywhere. Peter bent forward to take the mug from her and she shouted, "Get away from me! I can take care of it myself!"

He gasped as he unexpectedly heard his father's voice echoing unbidden in his mind. _Get outta 'ere ya useless git! Ah never wanta see yer bloody mug again!_ The flashback slammed into him physically like a body blow and he shuddered, blinking back unwanted tears.

Andrew startled awake at the commotion. Instantly sensing the acrimony between his parents, he began wailing. Jo glared daggers at Peter and scolded him, "Now see what you've done!" Stunned at her outburst, he shrank back as she got up to quiet Andrew. Peter finished cleaning up as best he could and slipped out the door without saying anything else. He leaned against the wall outside the boys' room with his hands balled into fists, eyes clamped shut as he forcibly willed himself to calm down.

Never in their married life had Jo ever displayed such a sharp and unreasonable anger, especially aimed specifically at him. He was completely puzzled, as it was so very unlike her. Here they were, five months shy of their eighth wedding anniversary and he desperately wanted to celebrate it literally, emotionally and mentally together, not apart. He was heartsick at the thought that their little girl's tragic death could so easily become a wedge that could tear them apart. He wondered how things had gone pear-shaped so quickly. Their little baby girl had been conceived by the deep love he and Jo had for each other; why couldn't that same love carry them through this nightmare together?

He had just begun to head down the hallway when he heard Jo loudly sobbing. He doubled back and put his hand on the doorknob, but paused as he thought better of it. Still badly smarting from the angry verbal lashing she had given him, he didn't wish to irritate her further and Andrew certainly didn't need to witness any more friction between them. He released his grip on the door and trudged sadly back to the bedroom.

Mary peered into the hallway to see Peter slowly making his way back to his bedroom with his head bowed low, seemingly oblivious to the sobs coming from the boys' room. She hurried to open the door and made her way to the crib to take Andrew into her arms. Jo had collapsed back onto the pallet and she lay on her side, crying uncontrollably.

Mary quickly took Andrew to Angus and asked him to prepare breakfast for both of the boys whilst she stayed with Jo. She hurried back into the boys' room and pulled the door nearly closed.

She knelt to sit down on the floor behind Jo and gently caressed her hair as she wept. She murmured softly to her, "I am so sorry my darling girl. I am so very sorry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - Days of Confusion**

"_Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." – Kahlil Gabrin_

Jo spent the next three nights sleeping on a cot in the boys' room and Peter didn't make an issue of it. He didn't like it one bit but he felt obligated to give her whatever amount of time she needed to recover without aggravating the situation any more than necessary. At least she still came to the dining table to sit silently and sip a cup of tea or coffee with he and the boys as they ate breakfast each morning. As Peter didn't have much of an appetite himself, he didn't prod Jo to eat.

They spent the days aloof and wary, Peter more so than his wife. Jo didn't seem to evince any interest at all in spending her time with him so he made at least one rebuffed attempt daily to comfort her and then left her to her parents' care for the rest of each day. He decided to fill the hours by spending as much time as possible with his boys. He took them into Newbury and they explored the historic town together. He hated to admit it but even his sons couldn't provide an able distraction for him during these troubling days.

On their second day in town, the boys were devouring a takeaway lunch of fish and chips in the park when Robbie asked his father why their mum spent her nights sleeping in their room instead of with him. He looked up at Peter and finished with, "Mum cries nearly all night Da, just like you said. It makes me feel sad."

Peter sighed, "It makes me feel sad too Robbie." He turned to look directly at his oldest son. "Yer mum feels more comfortable sleepin' where she can keep watch over you two. She...she's frightened Robbie. Yer mum's frightened and she feels better sleepin' close to you and Andrew."

Robbie lowered his voice, "Is it…is it because of the baby?"

"Yes son, it is…." Peter stopped and took a deep breath to forestall the emotion rising up from within.

Robbie noticed his father's distress and leaned in to give his Da a hug. Peter reciprocated and whispered, "Thanks Robbie boy."

* * *

><p>After spending a third miserable, sleepless night alone, Peter arrived late to the breakfast table and immediately noticed that Jo was missing. Robbie noticed the change in his father's expression and he piped up, "Gran? Where's mum? Isn't she coming for breakfast?"<p>

Mary looked over at Peter, who quirked an eyebrow in agreement with Robbie's query as he downed his coffee in one massive gulp. She looked down at her lap and fiddled with her serviette before she answered. "Your mum told me she isn't coming to breakfast this morning Robbie dear."

Peter stiffened and quickly stood up, a frown on his face. Mary followed and laid a gentle hand on his arm as he headed towards the boys' room. "Peter, please just leave it alone right now. Please? Come back and eat something to keep your strength up for the boys." She stepped in front of him and looked up into his eyes. "Please dear?"

Peter sighed and bit his lip to keep his emotions in check. He nodded, "All right mum. I'll do as you ask. I don't want to upset me boys any more than they already are."

Mary nodded and took his arm in hers as they returned to the table. "Her father is with her right now."

"Oh," he looked round as he sat back down, surprised that he hadn't even noticed Angus' absence. He tried to spin a light note into his voice as he called to his mother-in-law, "Righto mum. What've you got for us then?"

Mary poured him another cup of coffee and then began dishing out kippers, egg and toast.

* * *

><p>Peter spent the rest of the morning with the boys, trying to keep things as close to normal as he possibly could. He tried to force himself to eat a bite of lunch with them but simply couldn't get over the empty spot where Jo usually sat, so he ended up merely drinking tea.<p>

Mary came to put the boys down for their naps. She took them into the spare bedroom to snuggle in with their granddad, who had also decided to put himself down for a nap. She started to make her way down the hall towards the kitchen when she noticed Peter standing uncertainly in front of the closed door of the boys' room. She stopped and watched him until he finally opened the door and entered.

Jo sat listlessly on the side of the cot, staring at Andrew's empty crib and repeatedly wringing her hands in her lap. Peter quietly approached and sat down beside her. She didn't acknowledge his presence, not even looking at him.

"Jo?" She didn't answer and he tried again. "Jo, darlin' please look at me."

She sighed heavily and shook her head as she murmured, "Please leave me alone Peter."

"Jo, we can't carry on like this. We need to work this out between us darlin', for the boys' sake if for no other."

She remained silent and he leaned in to take her hands in his. She suddenly jerked them out of his reach and scooted away from him. He moved closer and tried again. She jumped up and batted his hands away, angrily glaring at him. "I said leave me alone!" she shouted.

He stood up as well and begged, "Jo please don't shout! The boys are asleep in the next room!"

"Then leave me alone! How difficult is that to understand?"

He moved close in once more, this time seeking to take her into his arms; she batted his hands away again and hissed, "Will you leave me alone you useless git!"

He shrank back as if physically struck. Eyes wide with shock, he cried out, "Darlin' please don't!"

"And why not?"

"Y-you...sound like...just...like me father..." he whispered.

She crossed her arms defiantly. "Maybe your father was on to something!"

"Jo don't say that!" He barely kept his voice from breaking. His heart, though, was another matter.

She couldn't stem the tide of vitriol that churned raw and unbidden within her and it spilled out dangerously, swamping him with anguished misery. "He was right wasn't he Peter? Admit it!"

He stepped further back and closed his eyes. He simply couldn't believe the words coming out of his wife's mouth. He breathed deeply and nodded, "Yeah, yeah 'e was. I'm nothin' but a useless git. Always 'ave been! Are you 'appy now?"

She didn't reply. She stood there staring at him with absolutely no emotion in her eyes and then turned her back with a curt, "I'd like to be alone if you don't mind."

_Does it matter if I mind or not?_ he thought. "R-right...that's...that's what...you...want..." he couldn't get his words organized to save his life, much less his roiling thoughts. Suddenly engulfed by despair, he just wanted to flee, to get as far away as he possibly could. _Sod this!_ He turned and flew out the door.

Strangely enough he felt no anger as he dashed out that door; he only felt deeply hurt, lost and confused coupled with an overwhelming sense of loss. He wasn't angry at Jo. He was angry at the situation. He could never be angry with his Jo. He simply couldn't be angry with the love of his life. Deep down inside, he realized that she had no control over her reactions right now. She was still his wife, the mother of his three, yes three, children. Nothing would ever change that.

He raced out the front door, threw himself into the car and took off, tires groaning and squealing in his haste to leave.

* * *

><p>As the evening wore on, Mary periodically got up to look out the window. Angus looked over at her and she replied to his unspoken query.<p>

"I'm worried, Angus. It's not like Peter to be this late."

"Aye, but nothin's been like it should be lately, has it noo?

Mary nodded slightly but persisted. "Would you go try to find him dear?"

Angus shook his head. "Nae, I'd accomplish naught. I'd only be gettin' meself lost. Let me call young Billy. T'lad left me his phone number for just such a case as this. I've a feelin' he can track down our wayward boy quicker than I could."

Mary put the boys to bed in the spare bedroom, reassuring them that their father would be back. She finally got them to fall asleep with the aid of warm cocoa. She checked on Jo before she brought the empty mugs into the kitchen and then joined Angus on the sofa. They sat hand-in-hand, silent, staring at nothing, waiting and worrying.

They both started when the phone rang.

Angus rushed to answer and picked it up on the second ring. Mary came near enough to see him nod his head several times before he rang off. He turned to answer her unasked query.

"That was Billy. He's found our Peter. The lad was in t'pub and is in nae shape to come back here."

Mary shook her head. _Oh Peter, please don't start down that road. Please, I beg you._ She looked at Angus. "What is he going to do?"

"He'll be takin' Peter tae his quarters so he can try tae sober him up. He'll call us in the mornin'."

* * *

><p>Bloody Nora, he felt horrible! His head felt like a hollow drum that was being beaten unmercifully and his throat, blimey, his throat felt like it was lined with several layers of sandpaper. Billy knew that his mate Peter favored The Swan over the rest of the pubs in town and so quickly found him there, passed out in a corner booth. He didn't remember passing out. He remembered settling in at the pub and ordering a pint, intending merely to sit quietly and nurse it along for a while. However, that pint went down so easily that he found himself relaxing just a tiny bit as a comforting sense of relief washed over him. He ordered another pint just to encourage those blossoming tendrils of oblivion. Before he knew it, two pints became three, then four, then five, then uh, then he found he couldn't recall the evening's final tally. He hadn't intended to get rat-arsed, he really hadn't. He had wanted to forget his troubles for just that one evening and thought that a pint or two of bitters would surely do the job. It certainly didn't help that he hadn't eaten anything since that morning.<p>

He thought he remembered a vague, blurry glimpse of Billy's concerned face whilst still at the pub. The next thing he knew, he was standing clad only in his skivvies beneath a harsh streaming shower of very cold water with Billy beside him, struggling to keep him upright. Then his stomach suddenly rebelled and the full volume of his night's endeavors relentlessly spewed up to soil the front of poor Billy's uniform. But then it didn't really matter, did it? It all eventually went down the drain and they were both already soaking wet. He felt only marginally better after that and then didn't remember anything for a long while after. He had come to for a brief moment to find himself wrapped in a sheet and lying on his side on a tiled bathroom floor with his swollen, aching head pillowed on a nice, wet, cool folded towel.

He must've blacked out again because his next conscious memory found him stretched out in a bed, clothed in a dry set of skivvies and somebody else's pajamas.

"Well it's about time you woke up sunny jim!" came a loud voice from the vicinity of the doorway.

"Cor...ya don't 'ave to shout! Who's that then?" He groaned and wearily swiped at his face. Something in that voice suddenly clicked and he cracked his eyes open just a bit. "B-Billy? What're you doin' 'ere?"

"I live here mate. I should be askin' you that question but I already know the answer."

Peter groaned again and tried to sit up. His head whirled as his stomach began turning handsprings and he collapsed over the side of the bed with the dry heaves. Someone, presumably Billy, had thoughtfully placed a bucket there for his convenience. _Not much to bring up_, he mused. _Reckon that's as good as it's gonna get._

He finally finished and very slowly righted himself to a sitting position. A wet washcloth slapped him across the face. "Damn it all Billy...!"

"Clean yerself up mate. I've got coffee on." Billy headed out the door and his voice floated down the hallway. "You and me have things to discuss."

Peter got himself more or less pulled together within the hour. Fortunately, as he and Billy were of similar height and build, it was no problem to borrow a fresh uniform for the day. He now sat bleary-eyed at the kitchen table, downing cup after cup of coffee whilst Billy gave him a well-deserved chiding.

He accepted his mate's words without reservation except for one item; he refused to budge in his plans to go into the office instead of back home.

"Listen mate, you need to be at home with Jo! The office will keep. We both know the General gave you a generous amount of time off to recover from your loss."

Peter shook his head vehemently and immediately regretted the movement. He moaned softly, lowered his face into his hands and murmured, "More coffee please, mate?"

Billy arose with a muttered "Stubborn bugger!" and shook his own head at his mate's intransigence. He gave up for now, deciding to let Peter have his way. He did however, deliberately neglect to mention that General Hogan was expected in the SAC OPS office upon his return from the Continent, which just happened to be this very morning.

_**A/N: This story has taken on a life of its' own contrary to my original intentions and has proceeded in an entirely different direction than I first envisioned. Therefore, it will probably end up being two (or possibly more) successive stories instead of the single, three part story I had initially planned.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Days of Reason**

_"We do not remember days; we remember moments." - Cesare Pavese_

General Hogan arrived at the SAC operations office and was astonished to see Newkirk there, slouched beside his desk. He walked into Newkirk's office and asked, "Peter, what are you doing here?"

His Air Attaché raised puffy, bloodshot eyes to his CO and snarled, "Workin', what else?" The General frowned at the unpleasant echo of the sarcastically impudent Newkirk he had first met back at Stalag 13.

Newkirk sighed, came to attention and raised his hand in a salute. He spoke softly as he held his salute. "I'm...I'm sorry General. I...didn't...mean..."

Hogan returned the salute. "That's alright Peter. I can't begin to imagine how you must feel, but I told you to take as much time as you needed. Why aren't you at home?" The General took a closer look at his English friend and decided that he didn't look at all well. He was extremely pale and swaying ever so slightly on his feet.

Newkirk came to ease and focused his gaze on the floor. He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice but didn't succeed. "I'm not wanted there right about now."

"What? Here, sit down." Hogan took Newkirk by his shoulders and guided him to a seat behind his desk. He buzzed the adjutant to bring in a pot of fresh, strong coffee before he turned his attention back to Newkirk. He parked himself against the edge of the desk and folded his arms around himself in his usual manner.

"Peter, it goes without saying that you know Jo better than I do but I simply don't understand why she wouldn't want you with her right now."

"That makes two of us Rob. She's not the girl I thought I knew up til now." He shuddered and dropped his head into his hands. "I thought we loved each other. She's treatin' me like this is all my fault!" He paused when the adjutant knocked and came in to deliver the coffee. As soon as the door closed Newkirk cried, "Rob, I've…I've not felt this low in…such a long time. If I lose Jo, I'll…I'll just…Cor, I don't know!" He folded his arms onto the top of the desk and buried his head into them.

Hogan moved to stand behind Newkirk and he reached down to grasp his shoulder. He spoke softly, "Peter, listen carefully to me. This doesn't mean Jo has stopped loving you. I'm sure she still loves you as much as she ever did. She's just as confused as you are right now, probably even more so. She's hurting Peter, she's hurting so much she's lost herself." The General paused and pulled a chair near so he could sit beside Peter. "She needs you to be strong for her right now."

Newkirk replied without lifting his head, his voice muffled and indistinct. "'ow can I be strong when I'm…I'm so scared Rob? I don't…know where I stand with Jo right now and I'm scared I'm gonna lose me family. 'ow can this be 'appenin'? Can you tell me that?"

Hogan sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he thought. He finally began speaking in a very even, very gentle tone. He moved his hand to rest on his English friend's back as he spoke. "When I was twelve years old, my father adopted a stray cat that had been coming around for a few weeks. We knew that when he named her "Dolly" she was there to stay. Dolly and my dad were inseparable. She wouldn't let anyone touch her except my dad. She'd sleep in his lap when he sat in front of the fireplace and he'd feed her tidbits from his plate at dinner. It was the darndest thing, that cat and my dad. One day though, a neighbor's dog somehow got into our yard and attacked Dolly; she was in pretty bad shape, especially her back leg. My dad bent down to pick her up to take care of her and she clawed him badly before she bit him right through his hand. I couldn't believe it and told dad he ought to just leave her be if that's how she was going to act. I'll never forget his next words. Dad told me not to blame Dolly because it wasn't her fault, that she was in so much pain she just lashed out without recognizing that he was trying to help her." The General paused and took a moment to collect his thoughts before he resumed speaking. "I think that's where Jo is right now Peter. She's in so much pain that she's lashing out at you without thinking. She doesn't realize what's she's doing or saying."

Peter hadn't moved or responded in any way to the General's words until his last comment. He stirred and shakily lifted his head. "D'ya really think so Rob?"

Hogan gently patted Newkirk's shoulder. "Yes I do Peter. All Jo knows right now is intense pain and she can't see past it to recognize how badly you're hurting too."

Peter slowly sat up and swiped at his eyes with both hands. "What yer sayin' is that I've got a bit of 'ope then?"

"There's always hope Peter. How do you think we all survived the war?" The General gently patted Newkirk on the back, then got up and poured two mugs of coffee. He passed one over to his English friend and pulled the empty chair back over in front of Peter's desk.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, yer right about that. I need to remember that." He took the steaming cup of coffee gratefully and looked up at his CO. "Just like old times, eh?"

Hogan nodded and sipped at his mug. "Although I have to say the coffee's much better here," he commented offhand.

Peter had just taken a mouthful and he nearly did a spit take. He swallowed hard and smiled in spite of himself.

The General set his mug down and put his hands on the desktop directly in front of Peter. He leaned in a bit to look his Air Attaché right in the eye as he spoke. "Peter, are you sure you don't want me to let the rest of your friends know about this? You know they'd all be more than willing to help in any way they could, don't you?"

"Yes sir, I know that. I just...just feel this is something I need to hold close, especially with Jo feelin' as bad as she does." He took another sip of coffee and looked down. "Maybe...maybe after things 'ave settled down...I don't know." He looked up at Hogan again. "Rob, I...I've never felt a 'urt like this one. It's gonna take a long time to get over it."

"I know Peter but..." the General put a supportive hand on Newkirk's shoulder. "Did you forget that you told everyone you know that Jo was expecting? They'll have to find out eventually."

"Cor! I didn't think of that."

Hogan took a deep breath before he spoke next, "Peter, I really think you need to talk with someone who can fully sympathize with your loss. Someone who we both know cares for you very deeply and who also has children." The General paused and then continued, "Someone who knows exactly what it feels like to lose a child."

Peter stiffened slightly as he realized what Hogan was suggesting. He murmured, "You want me to call Mama, don't ya?"

Hogan nodded.

Peter set his coffee mug down and scrubbed a hand across his face. He shook his head slowly as he considered the General's words. "I…I don't know if I should burden 'er with this Rob. She's 'ad more than 'er share of 'ardship. She doesn't need to be frettin' over me."

"I think she can help you put this tragedy in perspective Peter. Moving on with your life in no way diminishes the memory of your daughter. You'll always have a special place in your heart for her. I know you will."

Peter closed his eyes and nodded sadly as Hogan continued.

"I also think that Andrew can help you as well."

"Andrew? Oh General I don't want to…."

The General held up a hand to forestall the rest of Newkirk's comment. "Don't you remember back at camp how his irrepressible, natural born optimism always counterbalanced your natural born pessimism?"

Peter smiled at the memory. "Yes sir. Me own personal ray of sunshine 'e was. Even if I didn't want it. _Especially_ if I didn't want it! 'e always had somethin' positive to say, usually when I was down in the dumps."

"Well I think he'd also be a good one to lean on right now. He has children, he can sympathize exactly with how you feel." Hogan moved back to look his English friend directly in his eyes. "They care about you deeply Peter, and will be more than eager to help you through this. Please tell me you'll seriously think about contacting them."

Peter returned Hogan's stare and then nodded slightly. "Yes sir. I'll give it some serious consideration."

The General gently patted his back. "That's all I ask." He moved to sit in the chair in front of Peter's desk and they sat together in companionable silence, drinking coffee.

After the General left, Peter leaned back in his chair and sighed. He stared blankly at the ceiling and then lowered his eyes to focus on the mahogany shadow box containing his father's picture and Victoria Cross. With a sudden clarity so blindingly certain it physically hurt, he understood. He understood to the very core of his being the overwhelming power that unbridled pain could exert upon an innocent and unwary soul. A deep, raw ache arose within him for all the lives that had been wasted in the futile pursuit of relief from such pain.

He pondered what General Hogan said about pain and how it made people react. He remembered what Schultz had said so many years ago about the Great War and how it drove good men mad. He vividly recalled the resolute pain on Katrin's face after he confessed to her that he was not her long-lost son. He clearly realized how numb oblivion could be preferable to relentless agony, and that not everyone possessed the courage to overcome such suffering. He prayed his Jo had just such a fortitude. He felt that deep down inside, she did.

Now he clearly understood why and how his father allowed alcohol to overtake his life and he vowed never to go down that road. _Cor, 'ow could I 'ave Iet meself do somethin' so daft? Thank God Billy was there for me!_ How could he do the same thing his father had done? How could he treat his wife and children the same way his father had treated his? He closed his eyes and shuddered as he realized how shockingly close he had come to starting down that path. _That was a bloody near thing, that was!_ He swore to himself to stay out of the pub until his life returned to some semblance of normal. He'd be damned if he was going to repeat the failings of his father.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Days of Decision**

_"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional." - M. Kathleen Casey_

He felt he had no choice - it was either spend another night with Billy in his small, spartan BOQ or sleep on the sofa in his office, as he simply couldn't bring himself to go back home right now. Sadly, not even the prospect of seeing his sons encouraged him to spend the night there. He reached over to hit the intercom and asked the adjutant to request Billy report to his office. He then wearily laid his head down onto the top of his desk.

Billy strode in unannounced ten minutes later; he stopped short at the sight of his friend crumpled across the top of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Stone the crows mate! You look like hell!"

Peter startled and raised his head. He slowly sat back into his chair with a barely restrained groan and gestured Billy to a seat. "Ta mate, believe me I feel like it. I'm regrettin' me indiscretions religiously." He swiped his hands across his face and leaned forward. "That isn't why I wanted to talk to you. Can I bunk at yer place for one more night?"

Billy frowned at that. "Why mate? Don't you think you ought to go home to yer wife tonight?"

"Now would I be askin' ya that if I was plannin' on goin' 'ome tonight? Ya thick 'eaded..." he trailed off as a wave of vertigo suddenly overwhelmed him. He lowered his head into his hands and spoke without moving. "Just for tonight mate, please? Else I'm gonna spend the night 'ere in me office on the sofa."

"I'm sorry mate but I promised yer in-laws I'd have you back tonight. So that means no sleepin' here at yer office either."

"Don't know 'ow yer gonna stop me Billy." Peter groaned again and dropped his head back onto the desk.

Billy got up and poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe left over from earlier, then refilled Peter's empty cup. He nudged Peter on the shoulder until he lifted his head and then sat down again.

Billy took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and grimaced. "Y'know, the General stopped by my office earlier. He said you looked like death warmed over and diplomatically inquired if you were ill. So I explained what happened last night."

Shocked embarrassment colored Peter's face and he muttered, "Bloody 'ell!"

"The General feels you should go home tonight Peter. I don't think he wants to come in here tomorrow morning and see you stretched out here in yer office, if you know what I mean."

Peter sighed heavily, "Yeah I know what ya mean mate. Okay, you win. I'll go 'ome." He sat back in his chair and pointed at Billy. "Some friend you turn out to be!"

"Yer welcome mate," smirked Billy. He drained his coffee cup and stood up. "Now get yerself outta that chair so I can drive you home."

* * *

><p>Even though Peter kept his eyes closed during the entire time on the ride home, the motion of the car still made him dizzy and disoriented. He prayed he could make it home before his stomach decided to march back up his throat.<p>

Thankfully, they made it without incident. He was dismayed to find that he needed to lean on Billy a bit more than he wanted to as they walked up to the front door. Mary met them there and he ran past her without a word. He headed straight to the bathroom, finally able to give free rein to his steadily mounting nausea. Billy called out his good-bye from the doorway as he had to return to the office.

After seeing Billy off, Mary approached the bathroom. Deeply concerned, she waited until the distressing sounds coming from within abated and then she knocked quietly. "Peter? Is there anything I can get for you dear? Perhaps a small bite to eat?" She correctly reckoned that he hadn't eaten anything since the morning before. A few minutes passed before she received a muffled response through the closed door.

"No mum…no…thank you. I can't keep anythin'...down. Maybe just a hot cuppa for now?"

"All right dear. I'll put the kettle on." She shook her head and headed to the kitchen.

It was quite some time before Peter felt able to walk without becoming dizzy and nauseated. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and sat down gingerly at the table. He looked around and asked, "Where are the boys?"

Mary busied herself with pouring the tea. "Angus took them to the park for some fresh air."

"Oh." He was grateful for Angus' foresight; he certainly didn't want his boys to witness their father suffering through a hangover. "Mum...," he swallowed hard and started over. "Mum, 'ow is Jo doin'?"

Mary sighed wearily, "No better Peter. She's…she's…well, I'm afraid you'll have to judge for yourself dear. I'm sorry."

Peter lowered his head a bit and sighed as well. Mary set a large beaker of tea in front of him and he wrapped his hands about it for want of anything else to do. She sat beside him and regarded him for a moment.

Peter lifted his head to look straight at Mary. "Tell me, mum, please. Tell me what she needs."

Mary didn't mince any words. "She needs to know that her husband still loves her."

"I do love 'er! I 'aven't stopped lovin' 'er!"

Mary reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "I know that Peter. But she doesn't. You've been so frightened by her pain and anger you've stayed away from her. I know you are hurting too dear, but Jo needs you more than ever right now."

Peter dropped his head down onto his arms. "Yer right mum, I am frightened. I'm scared to death I'm gonna lose 'er."

"You will if you don't go to her to hold, comfort and love her Peter."

"But...but what if she…?"

Mary finished his sentence for him. "Shrieks at you? Curses you? Runs from you? Lashes out at you? Beats her fists against you?"

Peter raised his head and nodded forlornly, "Yessum." He sighed and then timidly confessed his greatest fear. "What if she doesn't _want_ me?"

"Trust me Peter, she wants you. My daughter loves you with her entire being. She's just forgotten it because of the pain she's in." She reached in and took his chin in her hand to look him deep in his eyes. "I know exactly how she feels, because I felt the same way towards Angus. Good man that he is, he stuck with me. I thank God each and every day that he did, because we wouldn't have had our Josephine otherwise."

"I 'ope yer right mum. God, I 'ope yer right." He turned his attention to his tea for now, hoping it would settle his stomach. The mere thought of trying to talk to Jo again had set it ominously churning.

* * *

><p>Angus brought Robbie and Andrew back an hour or so later and Peter spent some time with them listening to the wireless. The boys still found their favorite show as entertaining as ever and Peter envied them their innocent amusement. Afterwards, Mary presented them all with a special dessert, treacle tart with clotted cream.<p>

Peter managed to choke down a few bites to acknowledge the effort his mother-in-law had gone to in providing them with such a tasty treat. He glanced over at her, idly wondering if there was a hidden message aimed specifically at him given the choice of this particular dessert. He felt sure he noticed Mary giving him an appraising look or two as they ate.

Peter made sure the boys thanked their gran for dessert and then set about getting them ready for bed. Robbie and Andrew had been sleeping with their grandparents in the spare bedroom for the past few nights and he saw no reason to change that. They seemed to be happy spending the time with Angus and Mary; besides, he didn't think it wise for the boys to see their mother in her current state of mind.

Angus and Mary were headed to bed as well and they helped Peter settle Robbie and Andrew in bed. He kissed his sons, bid his in-laws good-night, then left to make his way to the boys' room.

He opened the door and spoke softly as he stepped inside, "Jo? Jo, it's me, Peter. I've come to talk to you darlin'." He didn't expect a response and didn't wait for one. He stood still for the few moments it took for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. When he finally could see clearly, he saw Jo curled up on the cot, her eyes half-open and dull.

He knelt down and gently caressed her hair. She didn't move or even look at him as he gingerly stretched himself out behind her. He nestled himself against her back and whispered in her ear, "Jo, please don't pull away from me darlin'. I just want to lie here wi' you and be with you. I love you Jo. I always 'ave and I always will. I...I don't know...what or 'ow I would live without you. Don't give up on us...please Jo." He buried his face against the back of her neck. "Please don't...do this."

Jo didn't respond as Peter continued, "Listen to me darlin'. Last year, when I was sick, you never gave up on me. Never. I mean to do the same. I'm not givin' up on you. I'll not lie to you Jo, I'm scared. You're scarin' me to death darlin'. But I'm not leavin' again. I'm not leavin'. I'll be 'ere until you...you come back to me." He took her hand gently in his and gave it a soft kiss.

She didn't react at all to his presence; there was no movement, no anger, no withdrawal, no shouting, no acknowledgment whatsoever. She simply lay there, completely unresponsive, staring at Andrew's empty crib. Peter grew increasingly disturbed by her lack of response; it was almost as if she wasn't there at all. He began to wonder if the angry insults wouldn't have been preferable to this near catatonia.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. To his dismay, she still gave no reaction at all. He kissed her softly on the back of her neck, released his hold and arose. He caressed her face and whispered, "I'll leave you alone for now darlin'. I'm sure that's what you want even if you won't tell me."

He left the room as quietly as he had entered. He stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed onto the floor. He sat there a moment, then slowly pulled himself back to sit against the side of the bed. He pressed his back up against the side of the bed, _our bed_, he corrected himself bitterly. The bed that he and Jo had shared up until now. The bed where they would end each day within each other's arms, sharing each other's thoughts and talking over each day's concerns. The bed their terrified boys would share with them during the odd thunderstorm at night. The bed that they made love in, the bed in which they had conceived their little lost daughter. The bed he now wondered would ever be shared by the two of them again.

He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and sighed heavily. _C'mon Peter! Calm down and think this thing through! Remember what the Gov'nor taught ya!_ He forced himself to breathe deeply and regularly until the cramps in his stomach subsided enough for him to be able to think a bit more clearly. There had been a time when he wouldn't have even bothered to stop and think a problem through. His reactions to past difficulties could be neatly summed up in two simple words - 'knee jerk'. Rather than solving the problem at hand he usually rushed in where angels feared to tread and ended up getting in more trouble. He had learned how to stop and reason a matter through by working under the General's command back in the stalag. That hard-won thinking ability had saved the lives of not only himself, but his mates and countless others. Hogan had taught him to look beyond the here and now and to take the future into consideration. Before he met the General, he had lived only for the here and now; at that time, he didn't believe he had any future to think about.

His mother-in-law's words echoed through his mind. _Trust me Peter, she wants you._ Oh God, how desperately he wanted to believe that was true! He then seriously pondered the General's advice to seek out Katrin and Andrew and he heard his voice as well. _They care deeply about you, Peter._ Perhaps the General was right. Perhaps they _would_ have some good, solid encouragement for him because right about now, he felt very nearly at the end of his rope. No, he felt beyond the end of his rope. Sod that, he felt he had no rope at all! He sat there on the floor for a little while longer and then came to a decision. He stood up and forced himself to clamber into that lonely bed. As both his mind and body were teetering on the ragged edge of exhaustion, he knew how badly he needed to sleep before he took any other action. He buried his head deep into his pillow and fell asleep immediately.

_A/N "Treacle tart" is Cockney rhyming slang for "sweetheart", thus Peter's well-founded suspicion of his mother-in-law._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – A Burden Shared**

_"What we share with another ceases to be our own." - Edgar Quinet_

Peter slept so deeply and heavily, he didn't awaken until nearly noon. After he showered and dressed, Mary insisted he come eat a bite. He agreed, even though he still had no appetite to speak of; he knew he needed to eat to regain his strength. He knew he'd need that strength to support Jo through this ordeal.

He managed to put away nearly half of what Mary served him and she didn't comment as he pushed his plate aside. He went to see the boys, who were in the spare bedroom roughhousing with their grandfather. Heartened by the little bit of courage he gained visiting with his sons, he went to check on Jo.

He was dismayed to see her lying on the cot just as he had left her the previous evening, listless, unmoving, staring dully at the empty crib. He knelt beside her and gave her a kiss. "Darlin' I'm goin' into the office for a bit. I've got some calls to make. I'll be back soon. I told you I won't be leavin'. I'm only goin' to the office. I'll see you this evening, love."

He gently caressed her face and then got up. He paused at the door to look back at his wife as she lay in a virtual stupor of grief. He sighed heavily and stepped out. He passed Mary as she headed into the boys' room with a tray of tea and a few biscuits. She nodded encouragingly at him as he headed out.

"I'll be back shortly mum. Goin' into the office for a bit. Take good care of 'er for me."

* * *

><p>He fortified himself with two aspirin chased down by a fresh mug of strong coffee before he buzzed the adjutant to get him an overseas operator on the line. He cradled the receiver against his chest as he waited for the call to go through. He swallowed hard as he heard the line click and he quickly brought the receiver up to his ear. He hoped he would be able to bring himself to speak of his loss again.<p>

"Hello?"

"An-Andrew?"

"Peter? Is that really you? How're you doin' buddy?" Carter's excitement abated as he suddenly sensed there was something amiss with his English friend. Silence was his only answer and he tried again. "Peter, talk to me buddy. What's wrong?"

A plaintive sigh sounded all the way across the Atlantic and Carter waited patiently for Newkirk to speak.

"Andrew...remember I told you that...that Jo and I...were...were expectin' again?"

"Sure do buddy..." Carter stopped and fought to maintain his composure as an inconceivable thought suddenly occurred to him. _Oh no, please don't say something's happened to the baby!_ He listened intently as Newkirk haltingly spoke again.

"Oh God, Andrew...I'm...I'm sorry to...'ave to tell you this...but we...we, uh...lost 'er. We...Jo and I...lost our lil' girl…." He stopped as his voice broke.

Carter swallowed hard, aghast at Newkirk's loss. "Peter, oh my God Peter. I am so sorry. Oh my God. I can't even begin to imagine. What...what happened?"

"Somethin' went...wrong. She came...too early and was...was...stillborn..." Peter's voice trailed off into a choked whisper.

Carter took a deep breath and tried to rein in his rising panic. His heart ached for his English friend. He was shaken to the core at Peter's news, as he had three children of his own. He simply couldn't imagine enduring a loss as tragic as that. He immediately knew what he had to do.

"Peter, listen to me buddy. You haven't given up have you?"

"No...no Andrew. I'll never give up on my Jo. I...I just don't know what to do!" his voice broke again at the last.

"What do you mean Peter?"

"Andrew, me and Jo aren't...aren't on the best terms right now. She...she's...I don't know...she's angry wi' me. She gave me a right tongue lashin' the other mornin' and she wants nothin' to do wi' me. Jo's never done anythin' like that before! She's...not 'erself."

Carter spoke very gently. "She's never lost a baby before Peter."

"Cor Andrew! That's the very thing she told me! You wanna know somethin' Andrew? I've never lost a child before either! What about me? I was the little lass' father!"

Carter realized that he needed to proceed very carefully as it was obvious that his friend was under an amazing amount of stress. "Peter, listen to me buddy. I haven't gone through what you have but I can only imagine how Mary Jane and I would react to losing any of our children. I would think a mother would feel a very different pain than the father because the baby was a part of her body. That doesn't mean you're not hurting because I know you're hurting Peter. I can hear it in your voice. My God buddy, I can feel it over the phone line! And you're not just hurting because of the baby. You're hurting because you're afraid you're losing your wife."

Peter laughed hollowly to himself. "I...I suppose you've 'it the nail on the 'ead again Andrew. I forgot you 'ave a knack for doin' that."

Carter spoke slowly and deliberately so as to keep his distraught friend's attention focused on his words. "Peter, I know there's nothing I can say that will make you feel better about this. Only time will help you. I know you'll never forget your little girl. She'll always be in your heart. Honor her memory by not giving up Peter. No matter what, please, please don't give up." He paused and asked, "Are you still there buddy?"

"I'm…I'm 'ere…," whispered Peter.

"Did you hear me buddy?"

"Yeah, Andrew…I 'eard ya. It's just…so…so…'ard…."

"Oh Peter, I really wish we could come see you and Jo. It's just not possible right now. I'm so sorry."

Peter cleared his throat before he responded, "No…worries mate. I don't…don't think it's…a…good time…right now anyway. Maybe…maybe later?"

"Okay buddy, we'll plan on it." Though Carter felt completely powerless to ease his English friend's suffering, he took a deep breath and continued, "Peter, you know I love you like my own brother, don't you?"

Silence. He tried again, "You know that, don't you Peter?"

"I'm…sorry…Andrew…," came the choked, broken reply. "I…know. Yer the lil' brother…I never 'ad. I feel the same…'bout you Andrew."

"You're strong Peter. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you will get past this. You and Jo together. She loves you buddy. I know that as sure as...as sure as...well, I can't think of a good comparison but I know it for a fact. She'll come back. I know she will."

"Oh Andrew...I only 'ope yer right." He looked at the clock, he had to say good-bye within the minute. "I...I guess I'll let ya go now Andrew. Even the RAF 'as a tight budget nowadays."

"Okay. Remember buddy, we love you. You've got friends ready and willing to help you through this tough time. Just remember that okay? And you call me anytime of the day or night if you need to, you hear me?"

"Thanks...Andrew. Really. Say 'ello to Mary Jane and the kids for me...uh, for Jo and me."

"I will buddy. Take care of yourself. Bye for now."

"Good-bye Andrew." He rang off and sat back in his chair, trying to get his roiling emotions under control.

* * *

><p>His intercom kept buzzing and he finally raised his head up from off his desk. He didn't remember collapsing onto the top of his desk and decided he'd better answer so his aide wouldn't feel compelled to come in and check on him. "Sergeant I thought I left instructions not to be disturbed."<p>

"I am sorry Flight Lieutenant but there is a very insistent caller on the line. He demands to speak to you."

Peter frowned, temporarily at a loss. He wished his brain worked the way it used to, it seemed like he operated in a constant fog nowadays. "Who is it?"

"He said his name is Louis LeBeau. I told him you were not taking calls but he is most persistent."

_Cor, Louis! Why is he callin'? Surely the General didn't tell 'im? No, no get ahold of yerself Peter. The General wouldn't break 'is word. Oh bloody 'ell…Andrew! _He had neglected to ask Carter to keep this matter confidential.

He reckoned that he would have to speak to Louis sooner or later. He sighed and opted for sooner. "Put it through Sergeant."

"Thank you sir." The phone rang immediately and he picked it up reluctantly. "Operations, Flight Lieutenant Newkirk."

"Pierre?" LeBeau's voice rang sharp with concern.

"'ello Louis. 'ow are you doin'?" He tried to keep his voice neutral but failed, and LeBeau noticed it right away.

"I have called to ask you the same mon ami. I have not heard from you lately, then André called to ask me to call you."

"What...what did 'e tell you?" he warily asked.

"He told me only that I must call you at once. Do not blame André, he did not tell me anything other than that. I have had a strong premonition that something is not right with you Pierre. Please tell me I am wrong."

Peter took a deep breath to try to calm himself and didn't succeed. "I…I can't tell ya that Louis." His voice broke and he paused again to get his emotions under control. LeBeau held his breath and waited patiently as his friend tried again.

"Louis…," his voice broke again and he gave up. He plunged on and decided to just get it all out at once. "Jo lost…lost the baby. Our daughter. She came…too early. Still…stillborn."

There was a gasp at the other end of the line. "Mon Dieu, Pierre! I am so very sorry mon ami, for you and Josephine. I had a feeling that something had happened but did not realize it was so…so…tragic." He stopped a moment as a thought occurred. "When did this happen Pierre?"

"Nearly two weeks ago. I'm sorry I…I didn't let you know Louis. I just didn't 'ave the words. It 'urt too much. Still…does."

"Do not worry yourself mon frère. I understand." And he did. Some things were just too private to broadcast, even to close friends. LeBeau decided to change the subject a little. "How is Josephine?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that question and said so. "I really…don't…don't know 'ow to answer yer question, Louis."

LeBeau didn't like the sound of that. "You do not know? What do you mean Pierre?"

"Just that. Jo's…been…she's…not 'erself. She's actin' like it's all my fault. She acts like she 'ates me Louis and I don't know why!" His voice kept giving out as his emotions began clawing their way back to the surface at the mention of Jo.

LeBeau waited a moment to ensure that Peter had finished speaking. "Pierre, please listen to me. The Josephine I know is incapable of hating you mon ami. You do not realize how much she suffered when you were so ill last year. She loves you more than you can ever know."

"She sure 'as a funny way of showin' it then, Louis. She…she won't…even let me get close enough to 'er to try to comfort 'er. And now she doesn't...even seem to know I'm there. She just...just...lies there starin' at Andrew's crib."

"Poor chérie. I fear her heart has been completely broken by this tragedy."

_Cor! 'as everyone forgotten 'bout me?_ Peter's voice had an angry edge as he replied, "She ain't the only one 'urtin' Louis!"

"Oh mon ami, please excuse me. I can almost touch the pain in your voice my dear friend. I know you are hurting as well. But for the mother, it is…so much worse. Oh Pierre I am so sorry for you both."

His rage deflated as quickly as it had arisen. "I'm...I'm sorry Louis. I know...it's worse...for 'er. I just feel...feel like no one takes me into account 'ere."

"Oh no mon ami, that is not true. Do not even think that! You are my brother, do you hear me Pierre? You are my brother and you will always be my brother! My brother suffers and I suffer."

Peter felt his emotions rising to the surface once again and he didn't reply for a moment. "Merci...mon ami..."

"I have a brother with an atrocious French accent."

In spite of himself, Peter laughed for quite some while at that. Louis smiled and waited for his friend to calm down before he spoke again.

"It is so good to hear you laugh again, my friend. Pierre, écoutez-moi. Josephine loves you, of this I am certain. I spent many, many hours with her when you were ill and in hospital. She loves you with all her heart and soul. I know this Pierre! Her heart has been deeply injured my friend and the healing may be long in coming. Do not give up on her. Do this for yourself, your sons and for the memory of your lost petite fille."

Peter sighed and shook his head, almost at a loss for words. "Thank you Louis. I don't know what I'd do without you and Andrew."

"May you never find out mon ami! I must say adieu for now Pierre, Danielle is calling me to supper."

"Say 'ello to 'er for me and mine will ya Louis?"

"I will mon frère, I will. Please call me at any time Pierre. Do not shun us in your time of need."

_Louis is right. I did shut them all out by refusing to tell them about the baby._ "I won't Louis. You 'ave my word."

"That is good enough for me mon ami. Give our love to your precious boys and your Josephine."

"I will. Good-bye Louis."

"Adieu Pierre!"

He sat silent for a moment, taking immense comfort as he replayed the sound of Andrew and Louis' voices within his mind. The intercom's buzzing startled him yet again and he reached over to answer it, "Yes Sergeant?"

"I am sorry Flight Lieutenant, but you have an overseas call. This caller is also most insistent on speaking with you."

_Blimey, Andrew!_ He had a good idea as to the identity of this latest caller, but asked the Sergeant who it was just to make sure. "Who's calling, Sergeant?"

"James Kinchloe, sir. He says he's an old friend of yours."

"Indeed 'e is. Put 'im through Sergeant." He had kept up correspondence with his old mate Kinch but hadn't spoken with him in quite some time.

"Operations, Flight Lieutenant Newkirk."

"Well that's something I never I thought I'd hear in my lifetime! Peter Newkirk, officer!"

"Me neither mate." He managed to laugh a bit then asked, "'ello Kinch, 'ow are you?" He was surprised at how the words seem to come a bit easier.

"I called to ask you the same thing. Andrew called me and insisted that I call you as soon as possible. He didn't tell me why but I could tell by his voice it was important. Is something wrong Peter?"

He sighed heavily before he answered, finding himself getting upset all over again. "Yeah Kinch, you...you could say that. Jo...and I...we lost our...baby. Our baby girl, Kinch. She...she was stillborn."

"Oh my God, Peter! I am so, so sorry! What do you need me to do for you?"

Peter shook his head. That was his mate Kinch all over, practical to a fault. "Thanks...mate. I...I can't think of...anything right now. Other than..." he trailed off, not sure if he really wanted to ask Kinch's advice.

"Other than what?" prompted Kinch.

"Any...suggestions on...'ow...'ow to...get me Jo back."

"What? What do you mean Peter?"

"Jo and I...aren't on the best...best terms right now. She...she blames me for...this."

"Grief like this makes people act completely out of character, Peter. They're hurting so badly, they don't realize what they're saying or doing to the ones they love."

"I want to believe that Kinch, but it's…it's just so…'ard to deal with."

"Don't I know it. My mother nearly went insane with grief when we lost my two brothers back in '44."

"Can you tell me 'ow you dealt with it?"

"There's no magic wand if that's what you mean. Unfortunately the only thing that helps is the passage of time." Kinch took a deep breath. "Peter, you need to stick with your wife, no matter what she says or does. You need to support her through this ordeal."

"I've been…been tryin' Kinch. I really 'ave!" He was beginning to become frustrated again.

"Then keep at it. Jo will come round when her grief runs its course. It took my mom over a year, but she eventually came to the realization that she needed to move on with her life." Kinch chuckled and continued, "I'm sure Jo will do the same. She has to be a strong woman, I mean, look who she married!"

Peter just had to chuckle at that, "Ta mate! You really know 'ow to make a bloke feel good."

Kinch asked him sincerely, "Do you feel better, Peter? I mean, just maybe a little bit?"

His friend's words stopped him for a moment and he had to admit that, yes, he did feel better than he did this morning. Hadn't he laughed at Louis' good-natured insult? And now he had just laughed and joked with his good mate. "Yes...yes, Kinch, I think I do. You know, that's the first time I've joked with anyone for nearly two weeks. Thanks...thanks, mate."

"Anytime Peter. You know that, don't you? Any time you need to talk, you call me, do you hear me?"

"I 'ear ya Kinch. I'm...I'm sorry I...didn't let ya...know. It...was just...so...overwhelmin'..."

"You don't have to apologize buddy. I understand. I can't begin to imagine your pain. I can hear it in your voice though. Don't let so much time pass, okay?"

"I won't Kinch me old mate. I won't."

"Well I gotta go. Take care of yourself. Give my regards to Jo and the boys. She'll come round Peter, I'm sure of it."

"Thanks...Kinch. Take care of yerself too. Good-bye."

"Bye Peter."

He rang off and then shook his head in amazement as he contemplated what had just happened. He felt as if he had been gently smothered within a virtual avalanche of loving care and concern from the three men who had become the brothers he never had. It sounded strange, but he thanked God he had found himself incarcerated in a German prison camp with them. He shuddered to think what he might've become had he not met these men, as well as the General.

Buoyed immeasurably by the encouragement he had received from Carter, LeBeau and Kinch, he steeled himself for his last call of the day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 - No One Stands Alone**

_"Shared sorrow is half sorrow." - Danish proverb_

"Peter! My dear child! How wonderful it is to hear your voice, my son!"

He couldn't help but smile at the joy he heard in his adopted mum's voice. "It is good to hear your voice as well, mama. How are Astrid and Petzi?"

"Ach! Those two! They are like you dear boy, busy making me a grandmother many times over! Petzi and Magda have a new baby. With your two precious boys and Astrid and Johann's three that makes, let me see…that makes nine grandchildren! I have been blessed many times over. Is there not soon to be another precious one in your family?"

_Oh God, she sounds so happy!_ He sighed and blinked back sudden tears, "Oh mama…I don't…quite know how to…tell you this."

Katrin's mood changed instantly upon hearing Peter's distress and she spoke quietly, "Something is wrong Peter, ja? Tell me, please. Do not hold back anything on my account."

He drew up his courage and plunged ahead. "Yes mama, something went…wrong. Jo and I…we…lost our baby. Still-stillborn. Our baby daughter, mama! Our…daughter…." Despite his determination to stay calm, his voice broke and he couldn't continue.

"Oh Peter, my poor child! How I wish I could wrap you in my arms right now! I am so sorry, so very sorry, my son!"

"I wish you could too, mama." He heard the tears in her voice and regretted being the cause of them. "I'm sorry…I...I didn't want to...upset you...," he whispered.

"Hush my son, do not concern yourself about me. You and Josephine are the ones suffering the worst pain."

He couldn't bring himself to speak and Katrin continued, her voice strong and clear. "My dear son, listen to me." Silence. She tried again. "Are you listening to me Peter?"

"Yes…yes ma'am…" he murmured brokenly.

"I love you, my son. Never doubt my love for you and your precious family. I hope and pray you do not blame yourself or your Josephine for this tragedy."

"I…I don't…," he lost his voice again and started over. "But…Jo…she…she blames me…and I just don't know…why…."

Katrin felt the pain radiating from Peter's voice and wished with all her might she could be there to comfort him. "My son, it is a loss no man can fully understand. I do not say that you are not in pain, no my son, for I can hear your pain. Yet only a mother knows the pain of the loss of her own flesh."

"What could I…have done, mama? I just…don't understand…."

"You did nothing my child. Deep within herself, your Josephine knows that."

"I hope you are right mama. I just…don't know what to do!"

"Be patient my son. Sadness flies away on the wings of time. I should know Peter. When Astrid told me my Petzi was missing in action and assumed dead, I went completely numb. I could not move. I do not remember anything after that. Manfred later told me that I became insensible and collapsed. I took to my bed and did not want to get up. I did not want to eat. I did not want to think. My dear Peter, I simply wanted to die because I was already dead inside."

"I think…I know how you felt mama. That's how Jo is right now. She won't...look at me or...respond to me at all. It's so very...difficult seeing her like this. She's...she's so different from the Jo I thought I knew."

"Peter, please do not let this sadness affect you as I let mine."

"I don't understand mama."

"Until I met you, dear Peter, I had given up on living. I merely existed, impatiently waiting for my trials...and my life...to end. You saved me dear boy."

"I...I...saved you mama?" That's not how he remembered it. "No, _you_ saved _me_."

Katrin chuckled lightly, "We saved each other my son and I will be forever grateful to you. If we had not met, only God in His wisdom knows where I would be. And where would my Petzi be if we had not met?"

His thoughts turned inward as he knew exactly where Petzi would be had he not met Katrin when he did. Petzi would have more than likely ended up lying in an unmarked, mass grave somewhere deep within the Soviet Union, along with hundreds of thousands of his fellow Heer. Only General Hogan's timely intervention nearly a year after the end of the war saved Petzi from the terrible fate of his comrades.

Katrin's voice roused him. "Yes my son, I have been blessed. Despite the pain and sorrow, I count myself blessed. You too, my dear Peter, have been blessed. I know it does not look that way to you right now my son. I ask you to trust me, for in the future, after you have endured this suffering, you will look back and realize how fortunate you really are."

"I…just don't see how mama…."

"You will Peter, you will. My son, I cannot tell you how my heart aches that you have to endure such a tragic loss. But you and your Josephine are still young. There can yet be more children for you."

"Not according to the doctors."

"We shall see. You must keep hope alive in your heart Peter. I learned that lesson as well when I met you."

"Can you please...tell me how to do this mama? I don't know where to begin."

"Prepare your heart my son. Remember the happy times you and Josephine have had in the past. Remember why you fell in love with her, why you chose her to be your wife. She is the same girl now as she was then; however, now she has been grievously wounded Peter. It will take time." Katrin paused and took a deep breath. "Peter, recall when you were wounded and first came to my house."

"Yes mama?" _How could I ever forget?_

"How long did it take you to fully recover my son?"

"A long time...," he suddenly realized exactly what she meant. Just as a physical wound required extended care and the passage of time to heal, so too an emotional wound. He would never forget the tender, patient, loving care Katrin gave him when he was brought to her house with a head wound. That care saved his life. Jo needed the same tender, loving care and only one person could provide it.

Katrin's patient voice reasoned with him. "Do you still have your scar Peter?"

"Yes, mama. You can't see it but it is there." Again, she was right. The scar on the left side of his head was hidden beneath his thick hair, yet it existed. Sometimes if he scrubbed too hard when he washed his hair, it hurt sharply. He had learned to be careful to watch out for that particular scar.

Again, he got Katrin's gentle message. Even when this horrible wound healed, both he and Jo would be scarred for the rest of their lives. They both needed to be careful not to aggravate this scar but both be mindful of it and be patient with each other.

He sighed as he pondered Katrin's simple yet profound lessons for him. "I understand now, mama. I know exactly what I must do."

He could tell that Katrin was smiling as she answered him, "I knew you would Peter. Wrap your Josephine tightly in your arms and never let her go."

"I will mama."

"Please give her all my love, as well as to your darling boys. I love you my son. Remember, keep hope alive in your heart. I will leave you with that thought. Auf Wiedersehen my dear Peter!"

"I love you mama...thank you. Auf Wiedersehen."

He rang off. Mindful of the length of the call, he buzzed the adjutant and instructed him to post the long distance charges for his personal account.

He sat silently for quite a while, seriously pondering Katrin's counsel. He also reflected on the encouragement and comfort he had gained by speaking not only to her, but to his mates Andrew, Louis and Kinch. The loving concern shown by each of them proved a soothing balm to his wounded soul.

He realized that the General had been right as usual, as right as rain. As difficult as it had been, each time he recounted his tragic news to each of his friends it seemed just a tiny bit easier to talk about. He knew this heartache would never be completely erased, yet with each gut-wrenching conversation, the painful burden seemed to feel just that much lighter. It seemed strange that the pit of his stomach still ached hollowly whilst at the same time the pain seemed to be very slowly, very gradually receding.

He suddenly realized that he needed to go back home, that he needed to see his Jo.

* * *

><p>Angus got up to meet Peter as he walked in; he had been sitting on the floor with the boys as they played with their toy train set in the lounge. Peter crouched down beside them and gave each of them a hug. He rose and took Angus by the arm to guide him into the kitchen.<p>

"How's Jo doin' Angus?"

Angus shook his head sadly. "Th' same lad, still th' same. Mary's in wi' her noo."

Peter nodded and headed to the boys' room to see for himself.

He very quietly opened the door to find Mary giving Jo a sponge bath. She looked up at him as he approached.

"How is she mum?" he whispered.

"I'm afraid she is no better, Peter. She hasn't responded to me at all whilst I've been bathing her."

Peter knelt beside the cot to caress his wife's damp hair. "'as she eaten anythin'?"

Mary shook her head sadly. "Some tea, a bit of broth, maybe two or three bites of biscuit. That's all." She finished up and gently towel dried Jo as she lay staring blankly at Andrew's crib. "I hope and pray that she's not given up..."

"Not if I can help it mum." He sat down on the floor and leaned in to kiss Jo. "I'm gonna stay for as long as it takes for 'er to come back to 'erself."

Mary cocked her head as she listened to the determination in her son-in-law's voice. "I'm very glad to hear you say that Peter."

He nodded distractedly, his eyes fixed on Jo. "I got a lot of good advice from you and Angus, as well as from me mates and mama. I know exactly what I need to do now, mum. I need to do me best to 'elp Jo get over this."

"Well, then," sighed Mary. "I say that Jo couldn't be in better hands." Mary got up, giving Peter's shoulder a quick squeeze as she went by. "I'll leave you two alone then."

"Thanks mum." He reached in to take Jo's hand in his as Mary closed the door.

* * *

><p>It was very late when Peter finally emerged from the boys' room. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table and gladly accepted a fresh cup of tea from Mary. Angus moved to sit beside him and laid his hand on Peter's arm.<p>

"Peter, listen tae me lad. I'm glad ye know what ye need tae do to help Josephine, but ye need tae work this out b'tween the two of ye alone. Let Mary and me take young Robbie and Andrew tae stay wi' us whilst ye do so. The bairns dinna need tae see their parents goin' through this." He moved his hand up to clasp Peter's shoulder. "Let us do this for ye lad."

Peter nodded tightly and looked over at Angus. His father-in-law's offer made a lot of sense to him and he suddenly felt an immense gratitude for Angus' compassionate empathy. "Yes, I think that'd be best. Ta..." He looked down and then turned to look directly into Angus' eyes. "Ta…dad."

Angus smiled broadly. This was the first time Peter had ever called him that; he knew a little about his son-in-law's own father and he felt honored that Peter finally felt comfortable enough with him to address him that way. "Yer welcome, son." He squeezed Peter's shoulder affectionately and whispered to him, "Dinna worry yerself too much son. Our Josephine is her mother's daughter, she's a strong lass. She'll come round soon. She just needs time tae heal, as do ye."

Peter wondered if his little family would ever heal; it seemed as if this intolerable burden would accompany them to the grave. "I 'ope and pray yer right," he sighed as he and Angus sat together drinking tea.

A few minutes later, Mary approached and took their now empty mugs to the sink. "Peter, it's late. Why don't you try to get some sleep, dear? We can get the boys packed and ready to go in the morning."

He had to admit that his mother-in-law was right. Despite the hot, strong tea, he could barely keep his eyes open. He looked in on the boys and then headed to his bedroom, both confident and frightened at what the next day held.

_A/N The events behind Peter's relationship with Katrin and her family were presented in my previous story "A Mother's Love."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 - An Uncertain Journey**

_"I won't be afraid, just so long as you stand by me." - Ben E. King_

Peter awoke the next morning to a knock at the door followed by the sound of his mother-in-law's voice, "Peter dear, breakfast is nearly ready. The boys are asking for you."

"Uh...all right mum...be...be right there." He sighed deeply. _Mornin' already?_ It seemed that he had just closed his eyes. He rolled groggily out of bed and got himself ready, grimly determined to do his best to save his family.

Everyone was already at the table when he finally emerged from the bath. "Sorry all," he murmured as he took his place seated between his sons. "I found it a bit 'ard to get goin' this mornin'."

"Mornin' Da!" shouted Robbie.

"'ey Robbie boy," replied Peter as he reached over to tousle his eldest's hair. He turned to give Andrew a kiss as he sat in his high chair at Peter's left. He then asked his in-laws, "'ow's Jo doin' this mornin'?"

Mary deferred to Angus, who replied, "'bout tha same lad. I was just in tae see her before ye sat doon. She took a little bit o'toast and some tea." He sighed sadly and shook his head.

Peter sighed as well, then spoke to both of his sons, "Boys, since yer mum is sick right now, you're goin' to go stay with yer gran and grandad for a little while. I'm goin' to stay 'ere with yer mum until she gets well again. I promise I'll let you know as soon as she's feelin' better and then you can come back 'ome. After we eat, we'll go get packed. Okay?"

"Okay Da," Robbie replied warily. Andrew just stared at him in wide-eyed solemnity, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

Mary bustled about, making sure everyone got a hearty breakfast to give them a good start for the day's activities. After they finished, Angus helped her tidy up as Peter got his sons packed and ready for the trip back to Croydon.

He soon exited the hallway, arms laden with the boys' luggage. He stacked it beside the front door and headed for the kitchen.

"Mum, I can't thank you and Angus enough for 'elpin' out the way you 'ave," he called out as he stepped into the kitchen. "I'm gonna miss yer cookin' that's for sure." He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "Especially yer treacle tart."

Both Angus and Mary chuckled at his implied acknowledgement before Mary replied, "Thank you Peter. I know you are going to be quite preoccupied helping Jo and will not have the time to prepare proper meals so…" She went to the small fridge/freezer and opened the door. "I put together some simple things you can easily reheat."

Peter sighed in genuine gratitude, "Oh mum, you're a lifesaver you are!" He wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek.

"Thot she is lad!" Angus gently thumped his son-in-law on the back as he left to go finish his own packing.

Mary looked up at Peter affectionately. "You're welcome dear." He released her and she grasped his arm. "Peter, please be patient with Jo. She needs your love and patience right now more than ever."

Peter nodded. "Yes mum, I know. I just 'ope it's enough."

"It will be, trust me. Jo will come round when she's ready. She'll know when she's grieved enough."

Robbie's rapidly approaching voice interrupted them. "Da! Da! Can I take Callie with me?"

Peter had forgotten all about Robbie's kitty in the stress of the moment. "You'd better ask yer granddad Robbie. If it's all right with 'im, it's all right with me." _I 'ope Angus agrees_, he thought to himself. _I really won't 'ave the time to be lookin' after th' lil' moggy properly._

Robbie nodded and ran to find his grandad. Peter sat down at the table with a weary sigh. He hated to bundle the boys off to his in-laws' again but he knew it was for the best. He needed to be able to focus all of his attention exclusively on Jo. And if things didn't go the way he hoped, well, the boys certainly didn't need to be around to see it.

"Da! Da!" Robbie came running back. "Grandad said yes!"

Peter nodded, "Good! Let's get Callie's box and we'll pack 'er up last thing."

At last everyone was packed and ready to go, including a surprisingly cooperative Callie. Angus and Mary had already said their farewells to Jo and they waited in the lounge whilst Peter took the boys in to see their mum.

Peter led them in and then crouched down beside the cot. He tenderly caressed Jo's hair as he spoke. "Darlin', yer mum and dad are leavin' now. They're takin' Robbie and Andrew with them so that you and I can spend some time together. They've come to say good-bye."

Robbie stepped up to wrap his arms about his mum's neck and give her a kiss. She didn't respond and he whispered, "Please get well soon mum. Da asked me to look after Andrew whilst we're at Gran's. We're taking Callie too. I love you mum."

He turned away suddenly and Peter pulled him close with his right arm wrapped around him whilst he nudged a reluctant Andrew forward with his left. "Give yer mum a kiss Andrew," he urged his youngest.

Andrew leaned in and kissed his mum on the cheek. "Bye mum," he murmured. He then backed up until he too was wrapped in his father's arms.

Peter reassured his boys as he held them close. "Mum loves you too, boys. She'd tell you herself but she's feelin' poorly. When she's better she'll be so glad to see you, she won't know what to do with herself." He got up and took the boys by their hands. "C'mon lads. Let's go."

Peter ushered the boys out into the lounge at the same time a knock sounded at the front door. Angus answered it and called, "Peter lad! Young Billy is here tae take us tae the station."

"Ta Angus, we're comin'." Peter called out as Billy came in and began gathering the luggage. Peter slapped him on the back and bent to pick up the rest. "Thanks for 'elpin' me out mate."

"No worries Peter!" smiled Billy. They headed out the door and then loaded the bags into the car's boot. That task accomplished, Billy grasped Peter's shoulder and spoke seriously. "Listen mate, promise me that you'll call should you need anything. I mean it!"

Peter nodded, "I'm grateful to ya mate. I promise I'll let ya know. Me mother-in-law left us pretty well provisioned."

"All right. I'll be checkin' in on ya as well."

"Ta mate!" Peter turned to say good-bye to his boys. He crouched down in front of them and gave each one a hug and kiss, gently reassuring each of them that everything would be all right. He reached inside the box Robbie held to give Callie a farewell ear scritch and then rose to say a reluctant good-bye to his in-laws.

"Angus…Mary…I can't thank ya enough for all you've done for us." Mary gave him a hug and a kiss, then stepped away to allow Angus to say good-bye. He reached to give Peter's hand a hearty shake.

"We'll take good care of yon bairns Peter. Take good care of our Josephine and we'll see ye soon, lad."

They all piled into the car and he retreated to the doorway to watch as Billy drove off. He gave a final wave and went back inside.

Everything seemed unnaturally quiet and strange as he moved about giving the lounge a proper straightening up. He hadn't realized how much the boys' presence lent an air of irrepressible animation and liveliness to his life until this particular moment. He sighed, already missing them dreadfully. He also suddenly realized how much he missed Jo's bright presence and stopped to chide himself as he admitted to himself that he was unconsciously delaying.

He headed to the kitchen to heat up a bit of soup, as it was already early afternoon. He made some tea and put a tray together so he and Jo could eat together. Or rather, he hoped he could persuade her to eat a bit of lunch with him. He wasn't sure how Mary had been able to get her daughter to take any kind of nourishment but if she could do it, then certainly he could as well.

He stood outside the boys' room and took several deep breaths, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. Then he quietly opened the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 - A Handful of Salvation**

_"... memory is the only way home." - Terry Tempest Williams_

Peter stepped into the boys' room and carefully sat down on the floor beside the cot where Jo lay. She didn't acknowledge or respond at all to his presence as he settled down with the tray in his lap. He reached over to lightly place his hand on her cheek as he craned his head sideways to peer into her face.

"Jo darlin'? I thought you might be feelin' a mite peckish by now. I know I am. It's been a little while since breakfast and I brought some tea and soup. Would you take a little bit o' lunch wi' me darlin'?"

He hadn't really expected a response and didn't get one. He set the tray aside and got up to sit down on the cot. He gathered his wife within his arms and gently lifted her up against his side in a semi-upright position. He reached down to retrieve a beaker of tea from the tray and took a swallow before he brought it up to Jo's lips.

"C'mon darlin'. You need to keep hydrated."

She didn't resist, yet neither did she respond. He gently tipped the beaker and she swallowed reflexively. He smiled as he gave her another sip, "It's not too bad, is it? Made it meself, I did!"

He fed her a little more tea, then finished the rest himself. He set the empty mug aside and reached for the small bowl of hot soup. He took a sip first to test it out, then brought it to his wife's lips. "Yer mum made this soup darlin'. You can't object to it, it's really good." He slowly fed her about half of the soup, then like the tea, finished the rest himself. He pulled Jo close and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "Yer almost as good a cook as yer mum. Course, she's 'ad a lot more experience."

He sat silently for quite some time, simply cuddling Jo and taking comfort in the physical closeness. He felt her shift almost infinitesimally and he whispered, "Do you need to go darlin'? 'ere, let me 'elp you up." He gently lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom.

He returned some time later and tenderly lowered Jo back onto the cot. He had taken the opportunity to give her a quick bath and she hadn't resisted him. He spread a light blanket over her and then stretched out on the cot behind her to softly nuzzle the back of her neck. He thought it best to start at the beginning and he began speaking to her very softly.

"Remember when we first started seein' each other outside of hospital darlin'? Sure surprised ol' Mave didn't it?" He smiled as he cast his mind back to early June 1945, back to the first moment he realized that Jo was the girl he would marry. He snuggled closer to her back and draped his arms loosely about her waist. Of course it had started out innocently enough; after all, Jo had been his nurse during his first bout of pneumonia. She and Mavis ended up friends, initially bound together by their shared interest in Peter.

Of course, Mavis' devotion was that of a baby sister, whereas Jo's was strictly professional (well, it was in the beginning anyway). Jo had been transferred out of Millbank three weeks before Peter fully recovered from his first bout with pneumonia and she had kept up with his condition via Mavis.

On this particular occasion, Jo had rung Mavis and asked to come visit for a bit. As she and Mavis were great friends, they visited each other quite often. This time, however, she had to admit she had a bit of an ulterior motive. Mave's brother Peter was now sharing her flat since he had been released from hospital and Jo wanted to keep up with how he was doing.

"Oh Jo! Please, come in!" Mavis put a finger to her lips. "Peter's asleep on the sofa. 'e was right knackered and dropped off right there."

Jo glanced over at the rumpled, blanket covered figure softly snoring on Mavis' sofa. She whispered to Mavis as she followed her to the kitchen. "Why is he so tired? He's not feeling unwell again is he?" She vividly remembered that it had not been that long since Peter's release from Millbank.

Mavis shook her head, "'e's wearin' 'imself out tryin' to find work. Things are so bad now Jo. Doesn't feel like we were the ones what won the war, does it?"

Jo sighed, as Mavis echoed her own depressing thoughts. She was incredibly fortunate to be in the nursing profession, given the sweeping changes recently proposed by the Atlee government. One stark word was on everyone's minds - austerity. Those who had fought and sacrificed during the war seemed to suffer the most. Lads like Mavis' brother Peter. _'Let us face the future' indeed_, she thought bitterly.

They quietly moved to the kitchen, where Mavis already had the tea ready.

"What's going to happen to him Mave?" Jo asked as she sipped at her steaming cup of tea.

"'e wanted to stay in the RAF but now they're sayin' 'e can't because of 'is 'ealth. 'e's in the middle of gettin' an 'onorable discharge right now. 'e'll get a small pension but it don't make up for 'ow useless 'e feels. 'e's tryin' to find a job but it isn't easy for a lad like 'im."

"That's too bad Mave." She glanced over the rim of her cup towards the lounge. "Your brother's really a sweet fellow."

Mavis stared at Jo, a bit taken aback. Was there something going on between her friend and her brother that she had somehow missed?

Jo smiled back at her. "Remember Mave, I _was_ his nurse. I spent quite a bit of time with him. He has a good heart."

"Yer right Jo. 'e does at that."

They finished their tea in silence and Jo got up to leave. She paused beside the sofa on her way out just as Peter stirred a bit and sleepily opened one eye. "Lemme sleep Mave..." he mumbled. He suddenly opened both eyes and sucked in a surprised breath when he recognized Jo. He quickly sat up, clutching his blankets about himself.

"Blimey! Jo! What are you doin' 'ere?" He raked his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to remedy his disheveled appearance.

"Good to see you again too Peter!" laughed Jo.

"Cor! Can't a bloke get a kip in peace around 'ere?" Peter jumped up and ran to his bedroom, the sound of Jo's and Mavis' laughter following him all the way.

Jo called, "Bye Peter!"

Unbeknownst to the two women, Peter had stuck his head back out the bedroom door to gaze thoughtfully at Jo as she left. He then climbed into bed, shaking his head at the crazy thought that suddenly occurred to him. _I think_ _Jo just might be the girl for me!_ he told himself as he drifted back to sleep.

Peter chuckled at that memory and whispered to Jo, "Ol' Mave finally got suspicious when you ended up comin' to visit nearly ev'ry day, remember darlin'?"

Money being as tight as it was, their dates usually consisted of a night at the cinema sometimes preceded by a stop at the local chip shop. Once in a great while, they would splurge on a live variety when they could afford it. More times than not, they would have dinner with Mave at home and settle in for an evening of listening to the BBC. If the weather cooperated, they would take long, leisurely strolls through Hyde Park or along the Embankment. Jo insisted that they spend at least one date a month browsing the exhibits in the venerable British Museum and Peter acquiesced as he reckoned it couldn't hurt to gain a bit of culture.

Once their relationship progressed to the point where Jo introduced Peter to her parents, they had a standing dinner date each week at Angus and Mary's modest home in Croydon. Jo had been a bit worried at first about her father's reaction to her having a beau from the East End but her fears proved groundless. Angus warmed to Peter almost immediately, especially more so after he found out he had been held prisoner for much of the war. Angus had served in the Great War with the First Battalion of the London Scottish Regiment. As a proud veteran of the "Cockney Jocks" he couldn't very well have any objections to his daughter's young man just because he hailed from Stepney.

Though Angus was understandably concerned with Peter's lack of gainful employment, he fully understood that it wasn't for lack of effort. The times were very tough, just as tough if not more so, than during the war. At least back then there had been a common goal, a clear cut reason to tighten the belt. Now that the war had been won, the unrelenting austerity began to wear extraordinarily thin. So many of the lads who had given so much during the war came home to a weary, bombed out, nearly bankrupt country whose government offered them nothing practical in the way of gratitude. In Peter's case, there was at least the small pension due to his being classified as 30% disabled by the serious bout of pneumonia he had barely survived. To his credit, Peter didn't waste time feeling sorry for himself. He was out nearly every single day, diligently searching for work.

Angus couldn't find any fault with the young Cockney and felt a fellow veteran's deep empathy for him. Plus, he could plainly see how very happy Peter made his daughter. Angus had a feeling that the two of them were already well on their way to a life spent together and so decided to give them his blessing when the time came.

Peter lifted Jo's hand and kissed it as he laughed, "Cor darlin'! Remember 'ow nervous I was when I asked Angus for yer 'and?"

He felt like he'd rather have faced Hochstetter in all his rage instead of his intended's father. He sweated out what he was going to say the entire week beforehand and when the moment came, barely stuttered out, _I'd...I'd...like...to...marry...uh…marry..._ before he stopped dead in fear.

Angus had merely smiled indulgently and added, "D'ye mean my Jo?"

All he could do was nod stupidly in reply as Angus took his hand in a hearty grip and slapped him jovially on the back.

Jo was an old-fashioned girl, insisting on the proper decorum during their courtship and engagement, and he loved her enough to grant her that. He surprised himself with his willing restraint and wondered if perhaps there was hope for him after all. Although in retrospect, Mavis' solemn promise to murder him if he misbehaved may have had some hand in his decision as well.

All he knew was, it certainly made their wedding night all the more memorable.

They had decided on a small church ceremony, attended by their close friends and family, with a reception afterwards at Jo's parents' home in Croydon. Everyone agreed they made a handsome couple, with Peter smartly attired in his RAF Warrant Officer's service dress and Jo in her white satin gown, accentuated with tulle and lace. Louis was to stand up for him as best man so he and Danielle happily journeyed from the Continent for the occasion. Jo chose Mavis as her maid of honor.

Even though the timing didn't work out for any of his American mates to attend, they all sent their very best wishes and pooled their resources to surprise Peter and Jo with a proper wedding night's stay at the Savoy. They had been overwhelmed by the thoughtfully generous gift from his American friends, as their plan had been simply to stay in what had been up to that time Jo's flat before they joined the LeBeaus to travel to Paris for their honeymoon.

After a glorious long weekend at the Savoy, they met Louis and Danielle at Dover to board the train for the night ferry to Dunkerque and thence on to Paris. Louis and Danielle insisted that their wedding gift began with the fare for the cross-channel Dover to Paris trip. Peter took issue with that and pulled Louis aside to protest that they were already doing more than enough by providing them with a two week honeymoon in Paris. As usual, he ended up admitting defeat at his friend's Gallic stubbornness.

Peter whispered in Jo's ear, "Do ya remember 'ow mad Louie got at me darlin'? Blimey, 'e was 'oppin' mad that I insisted on payin' 'im for the Channel fare and then I got mad right back at 'im!" He smiled as he recalled what had happened. "You and Danielle stopped everythin' in its' tracks, didn't ya?" He and Louis had ended up ashamedly apologizing to each other before they all boarded the night train for Paris.

He chuckled, "I don't know what it is but me and Louis seem to bring out the worst in each other sometimes." He snuggled a bit closer to Jo's back and murmured, "'e's like me own brother, 'e is."

He glanced around, suddenly noticing how dark it was. "Cor darlin', I've talked yer ear off 'aven't I? Jo?" He lifted his head up and saw that she had fallen asleep. "That's a good idea darlin'. Think I'll join you." He pulled her even closer, kissed the back of her neck and settled in for the night, his arms tightly wrapped around his wife.


	12. Chapter 12

_This story is now dedicated in loving memory of Richard Dawson, 20 November 1932 – 2 June 2012. May I say that if his death from Stage 4 esophageal cancer was a foregone conclusion, let us be content that he passed away relatively peacefully without having to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that is cancer treatment. I say this as one who has endured treatment for breast cancer._

**Chapter 12 – Amor patitur moras**

"_When it is dark enough, you can see the stars." - Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Peter yawned and began to stretch as he usually did each morning upon awakening. He abruptly stopped as he remembered he had fallen asleep on the cot with Jo wrapped in his arms. She hadn't moved at all during the night and hadn't yet awakened. He reached up to gently caress her face as he spoke to her.

"Jo? Wake up darlin'." He slid off the cot slowly, trying not to rouse her too suddenly as he did so. He was determined to try to get Jo back up onto her feet today and out of the boys' room. He felt that now was as good a time as any. "Let's get up darlin'. You can rest on the sofa whilst I prepare a bit of breakfast, okay?"

There was a small intake of breath signaling that Jo was awakening. Peter crouched down and kissed her on the cheek. "There's my girl. C'mon love, wake up." He rose to go prepare the sofa for her and saw that she had finally awakened upon his return.

He sat on the side of the cot and slowly lifted her into his arms. "C'mon Jo. Come with me darlin'." He got to his feet to carry her first to the bath and when finished there, on to the lounge. He gently set her down on the sofa, then tucked a few pillows behind her and spread a light coverlet over her legs.

"There you are darlin'. Are you comfy?" As he expected, she didn't reply. He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. "I'm goin' to cook us some breakfast. I'll be right close to you, in the kitchen. You let me know if you need anythin', okay?" He kissed her hands and released them as he got up to prepare breakfast.

He kept an eye on her as much as he possibly could as he made a simple meal of tea, toast and porridge. He put everything on a tray and went to sit on the sofa beside Jo. "Darlin' I can't seem to get the porridge right. It's a bit watery. I'm afraid you're the only good cook in our 'ouse."

Nevertheless, he spooned some up and brought it to her lips. _Maybe it's a good thing it's watery_, he thought. _It's easier for Jo to swallow._ She impassively took what he fed her and swallowed automatically. She wouldn't take any of the toast but did drink nearly half a beaker of tea.

Peter finished off the rest of the food after Jo ate. He set the tray aside, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He sat silently for quite some time simply caressing his wife's hair. Other than the slight movement resulting from her breathing, Jo remained absolutely still and unresponsive to his touch.

He sighed and whispered, "Oh Jo darlin', when are you goin' to come back to me?" He jumped slightly as the phone unexpectedly rang, startling him. He kissed the top of Jo's head and leaned her back against the pillows. "I'll be right back darlin'." He rushed to the phone to put an end to the discordant ringing and picked up the receiver to find out that it was Billy.

"Cor mate! I didn't expect ya to be checkin' in so soon," Peter exclaimed.

"I'm not goin' to apologize for that Peter. The General asked me to give you a call so I could let him know how you and Jo were doin'."

Peter shook his head. For some inane reason, he sometimes still had difficulty accepting the fact that others cared deeply about him.

"We're holdin' our own I suppose. At least I've got 'er out of the boys' room and into the lounge. She 'asn't snapped out of it yet. She's eatin' though, that's a good thing."

"Glad to hear that. The General said to let him know if there's anything he can do for you."

"Ta mate. Tell the General thanks as well and I'll be sure to let ya know. I've got to get back to Jo, I'll talk to you later."

He rang off and sat back down to take Jo in his arms again. "'ey darlin'. That was Billy, good mate that 'e is, checkin' up on us. General Hogan sends 'is best as well."

Jo continued to sit silent and unresponsive, despite his determined efforts to bring her back to normal. Desperate to bring happy thoughts to her mind, he spoke very softly and evenly as he continued to gently caress her hair. "Remember 'ow we danced at the Savoy on our weddin' day? Remember darlin'?" He gently lifted her up off the sofa to bring her to her feet and took her in his arms, holding her close as if dancing. She didn't respond to him, yet neither did she resist. He swayed slightly, recalling their first dance as husband and wife, and sighed with relief as Jo slowly eased her head down onto his shoulder.

"We danced and danced, remember Jo? Some of those blokes were starin' at you dancin' with me and believe me, they were green with envy." He sighed and a small smile surfaced as the memories of their wedding night came back to mind. "We took a few more turns before we went to our room to dance together under the covers for the first time. Cor darlin', I'll never forget that night! Never!"

They had finally gone up to their room after an incredible evening that had begun with cocktails in the Savoy's famous American Bar, continuing with dinner in the Grill Room followed by dancing in the Lancaster Ballroom. As they danced to "And the Angels Sing" he whispered to Jo that perhaps they should make it their last dance for the evening. Despite it being their wedding night, they had lingered in the public rooms as long as possible, for both knew they more than likely would never know this kind of luxury again.

Peter had insisted on carrying Jo across the threshold of the door into their room and she laughingly agreed. He nudged the door closed with his shoulder and leaned in to kiss his bride as she clung to him with her arms about his neck. He still couldn't believe his great good fortune in marrying such a woman as Jo. As their kiss grew increasingly passionate he carried her to the bed, which the staff had thoughtfully turned down in advance.

He sighed as the memories came flooding back. He reckoned that his willing abstinence had been more than amply rewarded that night as well as every night since and he never once regretted it. They spent the rest of the evening exploring each other completely and finally collapsed in exhaustion just after dawn. Thankfully the staff was fully aware there was a honeymooning couple in the room and they were left to sleep undisturbed until the early afternoon.

They had finally awakened to share a delightful lunch in their room. Peter had sworn to himself to send each of his American mates his heartfelt thanks for their amazing thoughtfulness. They had certainly known how to make his wedding even more special despite being unable to attend.

He felt Jo's body relax a bit as she sagged in his arms whilst silent tears trailed down her face. He simply held her close and didn't speak any further. After a few moments, he lowered her back onto the sofa and knelt in front of her to lay a gentle hand on her knee.

"Are you 'ungry darlin'? It's already well past noon. I could do with a bit of somethin' if you'll join me." He got up and went to see what he could prepare quickly. He returned in a few minutes with a sandwich made from savoury cheese filling he had found in the fridge and a large beaker of hot tea. "Yer mum left this for us love. I think you'll like it."

He sat beside her, feeding her small bites of the sandwich interspersed with sips of tea. He was elated that he had at last been able to elicit some kind of response from her, albeit only more tears. He prayed it was the small beginning to her eventual recovery. Jo finally refused any further food and he finished the sandwich off along with the rest of the tea.

He noticed that she was beginning to doze off so he gently stretched her out on the sofa and covered her with a light blanket. He kissed her tenderly before he went to tidy up the dishes from breakfast and lunch. Afterwards, he changed the bed linens and tidied up the bedroom as he fully intended to bring Jo back to their bed tonight.

It took longer than he anticipated to get the kitchen and bedroom tidied up as it was already dusk by the time he returned to sit on the sofa at Jo's feet. She was still asleep and he decided not to disturb her with an evening meal. He gathered her up in his arms, carried her into their bedroom and gently set her down onto her side of the bed.

She stirred a bit as he released her and he brushed the hair out of her eyes. "We're goin' to sleep in our bed darlin'. Together. I 'ope you aren't too disappointed."

He quickly got undressed and slid into bed beside his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her snugly against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. She didn't resist and he leaned to whisper into her ear, "Remember our first night in Paris? Louis and Danielle really went all out for us, didn't they darlin'? Roses, champagne, chocolate! Blimey!" Peter found himself again smiling in spite of himself and he paused as the memories threatened to overwhelm him. Louis and Danielle had immediately ushered the two of them up to the top floor of their flat as soon as they arrived from the train station. He and Jo had stayed in the upstairs guest room during their honeymoon at the LeBeaus' Paris home where they had the privacy of the entire floor to themselves for two weeks. They felt just as cosseted and pampered as if they had booked a full service suite at the Ritz! Louis took great delight in providing them with a full, gourmet breakfast each morning out on the small balcony terrace.

They spent lazy, carefree days exploring Paris both on their own and with the LeBeaus. Louis took them to all of his favorite cafes, brasseries and bistros. They whiled away romantic late evenings in front of the fireplace in their bedroom, sharing platters of fruit, cheese, chocolates and champagne courtesy of their unbelievably generous hosts. He couldn't fathom how Louis was able to get his hands on such delicacies and thought it inexcusably rude to ask.

_It's a wonder I didn't put on a stone or two!_ he thought. However, neither he or Jo gained so much as an ounce, as each night's delightful exertions more than offset the effects of the rich food and drink. His smile widened as he reflected on the little tiger he had married. He recalled slowly rising back to consciousness after one particularly energetic romantic episode to find her gazing down at him with tears in her eyes. Concerned, he quickly shook the cobwebs from his brain and took her hand.

"Jo? What's wrong darlin'?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing love. Nothing at all. I…I'm just so very happy."

He smiled as well and swept her into his arms again, "I am too darlin'."

He sighed as the memories faded. He pulled Jo even closer and tightened his embrace as he whispered, "I miss you darlin'. Please come back to me Jo, please. Please…." He held her close and gently murmured to her until he too finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p><em>AN Chapter title translates as "Love is patient"._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – An Epiphany of Sorrow**

_"We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full." - Marcel Proust_

The following day and the next followed much the same pattern, with Peter taking care of Jo's every need. He made sure she ate at least a little at each meal. He managed to get her up onto her feet and guide her about the house several times daily. He kept up the litany of reminiscences of their life together up to this point.

Since there had been no other response from her since her earlier tears, Peter found himself fighting off an increasingly desperate belief that his efforts might prove to be all for naught. He kept Billy and General Hogan apprised of his situation as best he could, but began to seriously doubt whether he would prove successful. However, he didn't want to begin making his mind accept the possibility that Jo might never recover just yet.

He had even rung his in-laws to have Jo listen to the boys' voices in the hope that it would help jog her back to reality but it was to no avail. Afterwards, he brought her back to the sofa and sat her down, then tried to get her to look him in his eyes. She didn't even raise her head and he sat back with a sigh that almost, just almost, became a sob. He calmed himself down and then sat silently thinking over what he planned to next say to try to snap her out of her current state of mind.

He fully realized the import and possible risk of his next words, so he took her hands in his to squeeze them gently before he began to speak softly and earnestly. "Darlin' remember when you first told me you were expectin' our little lass? Do you remember 'ow 'appy we both were?" He couldn't help but smile at the now bittersweet memory. His IOT class had called a brief furlough in observance of the Queen's impending coronation and he, Jo and the boys were all gathered around the wireless. He had just wondered out loud where Mavis might possibly be in the overwhelming crowds thronging London that day. He had invited his sister over to Greenham Common to listen to the ceremony on the wireless with his family but she insisted on remaining in town for the historic event.

Billy had been disappointed that Mavis chose to remain in London. Nevertheless, he popped over to listen in with them and everyone was proudly excited by the day's historic events. After the festivities ended and Billy left, they got the boys off to bed and then sat together in the lounge, ending the day by sharing a pot of Earl Grey with some leftover biscuits.

Jo leaned back into her husband's embrace with a contented sigh, and looked up into his face. "What a day!"

Peter nodded, "Uh huh. Big doings eh? Thank goodness we've got our Queen properly crowned." He took a bite of biscuit. "And we 'ave leftover biscuits! Quite the day indeed!"

Jo looked up at him and whispered conspiratorially, "I actually put those aside beforehand so there'd be some left for you."

Peter laughed out loud at that, knowing how their son Robbie loved biscuits. "Thank you darlin'! I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably have to go through life without biscuits."

"And what a tragedy that would be!" He chucked the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and followed it up with a swig of tea.

"Actually darling, there is one other reason why this day is special." She pulled out of his arms and leaned against his side with her head on his shoulder. She then reached down and took his right hand in her left one.

He worked to quickly chew and swallow his mouthful of biscuit before he answered her. "And..." he paused to wash it down with another gulp of tea. "And what would that be, my bonny lass?"

She looked up at him with a shy smile on her face. "I…I think I'm pregnant."

He did a double take, glancing first at her face then at her belly. He placed a gentle hand on her stomach, his eyes widening as they always did when she presented him with news of this magnitude. "Are…are you sure, darlin'?"

She nodded, "I've been through this twice before, love. I'm sure."

"Cor, that's wonderful news darlin'!" He swept her into his arms for a passionate kiss. He released her and held her tightly against his chest. "I love you so much darlin', I'm about to burst!"

"Please don't! I don't want to have to clean up the mess!"

He laughed out loud and brought her near for another kiss. One thing led to another and he lifted her into his arms to carry her into their bedroom.

Later, as they lay in each other's arms sated and sleepy, he murmured, "What are we gonna name this baby Jo? What'd you like darlin'?"

She paused a moment before she replied. "I'd like to honor my grandparents if I may." She could feel her husband nodding his head as he tightened his grip on her.

"Anythin' you say darlin'. You've indulged me in the namin' of the boys so I'll let you pick the name for this baby."

"Why thank you darling!" she teased. She thought for a moment before she next spoke. "So…if it is a boy he will be named...Callum McLean after dad's father."

Peter chuckled, "Och! Thot's a good Scots name. Angus will be verra, verra pleased wi' thot."

Jo mock-punched him on the chin. "Very funny. Now if it's a girl..."

Peter, serious this time, interrupted her with a gentle hand on her face. "You'd really like a little lass this time wouldn't you darlin'?"

She smiled to herself as she had to admit he was right. She spoke a bit wistfully. "You know I love our boys more than life itself, Peter, but it would be so nice to have a little girl. If God blesses us with a girl, we'll name her Abigail Darnley after mum's mother."

Peter leaned over to kiss her, and they both lay silent for several minutes before he murmured, "Callum McLean Newkirk. Abigail Darnley Newkirk. Fine names, darlin'. Those are fine names. Now little mama, how 'bout gettin' some sleep?" There was no answer. "Jo?" He heard her soft, even breathing and chuckled to himself as he realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. He sighed as he closed his own eyes and drifted off.

The memory finished, he softly murmured, "Abigail Darnley Newkirk...our little Abby." Tears suddenly blurred his vision as he whispered, "You'll see 'er name on the stone darlin', whenever you feel yer ready to go see it."

Peter pulled Jo tightly against his chest and kissed the top of her head. "We'll never forget our little Abby. She'll be in our 'earts for the rest of our lives."

He thought he heard Jo mumbling. "Ab-Abby? Abby…oh…oh Abby…"

Peter leaned down and whispered, "Jo? Are ya talkin' to me darlin'? Oh Jo please tell me yes…."

He felt a hard shudder pass through his wife's body as soon as he finished speaking. She muttered, "My little Abby…oh my baby girl…."

To Peter's shocked surprise, Jo ripped herself out of his embrace and stared at him with wild eyes, her chest heaving as she nearly hyperventilated with anger. She moved to scramble to her feet and he reached to hold her back.

"Calm down darlin', please. Jo, please, calm down!"

Jo would have none of it and she became even more agitated as Peter sought to restrain her.

"Let me go!" she shouted. "For God's sake, let me go! I need to go see Abby! I need to go…let me go!"

She pulled away with such force that she toppled onto the floor to lie in a heap. Peter crouched down to lift her up and he wrapped her tightly back within his arms, ignoring her as she struggled and lashed out at him. "No! I didn't mean right now Jo…yer not ready. Yer not goin' anywhere Jo! I'm not lettin' go! I promised meself I'm gonna weather this storm and that's what I'm doin'!" He pulled her against his chest to try to hold her head to his shoulder and she wriggled out of his grasp just enough to furiously pummel his chest with her fists.

He kept his grip firm as she struggled to escape his embrace, continuing to hold her as she repeatedly struck his chest and upper arms with her fists. He didn't try to stop her and several long minutes passed as he allowed her to take out her rage on him. Exhausted, she finally collapsed in his arms, sobbing loudly in frustration and anger.

"No…no…," she murmured over and over again.

Peter held her close, murmuring encouragingly to her. "I can't let you do this to yerself darlin'. I just can't. Please darlin'. Please." He gently lifted her and carried her into the bedroom to their bed, where he tucked her in. He then collapsed on the floor beside the bed and sat holding her hand against his cheek as she fell into a deep, heavy sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – Safe in the Arms of Love**

"_To live in hearts we leave behind, Is not to die." - Thomas Campbell_

Hours later, Jo awoke suddenly to find herself alone in the bed with absolutely no idea of how she got there. Distressing noises were coming from the adjacent bathroom and she wondered if that was what woke her. She cocked her head to listen and heard what sounded like someone being violently ill interspersed with muffled sobs. She got up to investigate and padded silently to the bathroom. She gently pushed the door open and gasped as she saw Peter slumped on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bathtub. He had his face buried in a wadded-up towel, desperately trying to conceal the sound of his weeping. Finally coming to some measure of composure, he scrubbed his face roughly with the towel and sat there, head hanging low. His chest began heaving again and he clamped his hand across his mouth before he doubled over as if struck by severe pain.

She stood there dumbstruck, her heart constricting painfully at the sight of her husband suffering alone, prostrate with such terrible grief. She felt as if she had suddenly emerged from a long, lonely trance. As she came to a sudden, heart-rending epiphany, all her anxiety, anger and fear instantly melted away to be replaced entirely with an overwhelmingly damning guilt. She realized that she had been so completely wrapped up in her own pain, her own loss and her own suffering that she had ignored everyone else's, none more so than Peter.

The scales fell from her eyes as she suddenly understood how her husband had willingly paid such a high price for her stifling, unyielding, solitary grief. She shook herself out of her daze and rushed to kneel beside him, wrapping her arms around him. He startled and dropped the towel, then frantically tried to get to his feet. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around him and held him still. He quickly tried to pull himself together and gazed at her anxiously.

"Jo…? What're you doin' up darlin'? I'm…I'm so sorry I woke ya…."

She shook her head. "No my darling, no. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry for putting you through this agony."

"But…but you've got no call to…."

"Yes I do Peter. No matter what's happened I shouldn't have shut you out. I…I should never have blamed you. I don't quite remember everything I said or did, but please believe me darling, I'm so very sorry I've hurt you so deeply. I added so much to your misery. Please forgive me, please." Her stomach twisted in knots at the fear and uncertainty she saw reflected in his eyes as she realized that she was the one who had put it there.

Peter shook his head sadly. "There's nothin' to forgive darlin'. I know yer feelin' bad. I know I can't even begin to imagine 'ow yer feelin' darlin'. It's just…just…I've…missed…you so...and I…I…didn't want…to lose you…." He battled to keep his emotions under control but lost as he began sobbing all over again.

"And that's my fault Peter, I swear it won't happen again. You won't lose me darling, you have my word on that. I had no right to put this horrible burden on you." She gently brushed his hair back off his forehead as she spoke, trying her best to soothe him.

After a few moments, he calmed down enough to speak. "I…I promised to love you for better…or worse… darlin'. Right now, I can't imagine anythin' worse than this." He dropped his head and continued, "Well, the only thing worse than this would be if we lost each other because of it." He lifted his head to peer hopefully at Jo. "Darlin' please don't shut me out. You're the best thing that ever 'appened to me. I don't know 'ow I managed to find a girl like you to love me. I know I don't deserve you. If I lost you I don't know what I'd do." He dropped his head again. "But don't worry 'bout me. Where'd the boys be if we lost each other?" He became upset again and Jo's heart broke anew.

She sat down on the floor beside him and shifted his head over to rest upon her shoulder. She gently caressed his face as she spoke softly to him, "Shhh darling. Don't worry. Shhh…we won't lose each other. I promise you, my love. I promise." She leaned down to kiss him tenderly. He gradually calmed and she helped him to his feet.

They returned to their bed together, where she cradled his head on her shoulder as he fell into his own exhausted stupor of grief. She whispered to him as he drifted off, "Close your eyes my love, sleep." She leaned in to kiss his forehead. "I do love you Peter Newkirk. I swear I'll never leave you darling. I am so very, very sorry I hurt you. Please forgive me."

She awoke just before eight with Peter still heavily asleep in her arms. He didn't stir as she slowly moved to arise. She returned some time later freshly showered and dressed in her robe, carrying a tray of coffee, egg, bacon and toast. She sat it on the nightstand and leaned down to tenderly kiss her slumbering husband. Wincing at the obvious signs of bruising visible on his chest and arms, she reached to caress his hair as she spoke softly to him, "Peter, wake up love. We both need to eat something."

It took him several minutes to completely awaken and he rubbed his eyes before he looked blearily up at Jo. "J-Jo?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Is that…you?"

She ached inside as she realized what he was really asking. She swallowed hard and reached down to gently caress his face. "Yes love, who else would it be?"

He murmured as if to himself, "Oh, I…didn't mean to...I just thought…." Was this real or was he dreaming? He stared up at her warily, desperately searching her face for any sign of irritation or anger. He exhaled shakily at what he saw, more in relief than anything else as he reached up to pull her down into his arms. He tentatively pressed his lips to hers, the kiss deepening as he realized she wasn't stiffening or angrily pulling away from him. She wrapped her arms around him and responded wholeheartedly. As the kiss ended, she backed out to arm's length to gaze deeply into her husband's still somewhat troubled eyes.

She sighed sadly and gestured to the nightstand. "I've got breakfast ready for you darling."

He tilted his head and sniffed the air, surprised to find himself with a genuine appetite for the first time in weeks. "ReaIly? I thought I smelled somethin' ruddy good!" He smiled as he spied the tray on the nightstand and he dared to tease in his usual manner. "Cor! Breakfast in bed? For me? I feel like a right toff!"

Tears came to her eyes as she heard his cheeky sense of humor return. She reached to gently caress his face as she replied, "As well you should darling!" She got up to pour him a cup of coffee and then brought the tray near so they could share breakfast together in bed. They fell back comfortably into their routine and ate together silently, simply enjoying each other's company as they had so many times before.

"Blimey that was good! Thank you darlin'!" Peter moved the tray off the bed, then reached to take Jo's hand to bring it up to his lips. He peered deeply into her eyes, desperately searching within for the girl that he married and he gasped in relief as he finally found what he sought.

He kissed her hand again, gambling on the chance that she truly had come back to herself. He spoke a bit haltingly, "Jo, darlin', I…I don't ever want us to…'ave any kind of…any kind of…wall like that…between us again." He dropped his head down and whispered, "I was never so frightened in me life. Even during the war, I was never so scared of anythin' as I was of…of losin' you darlin'." He swallowed hard and lifted his head to again look Jo directly in her eyes. "I…I…can't imagine life without you Jo."

Peter's confession struck Jo to the heart, as unbeknownst to him, she knew exactly what he had endured during the war. She fixed her steady gaze on him. "Peter, I...I really don't remember much about the past two weeks." She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and despite himself, he flinched ever so slightly.

She took a deep breath and continued, "Darling, whatever I did or said to cause you such monstrous pain, I beg your forgiveness. I'm...so...so...very sorry..." Jo dissolved into sobs and he wrapped her in his arms. She eventually calmed and pulled away to face him. She reached to take his face in her hands and look deep within his eyes before she very gently laid her head against his bruised chest.

"I can't begin to express how sorry I am love. I think I…I lost my sanity for a little while and you were the one who had to suffer for it simply because you were here. I'm so thankful to God you stayed with me and didn't give up. If I had lost you it would've been my fault completely." Her eyes filled with tears again as she reflected on what she had very nearly lost. "How could I have been so stupid? I can never make this up to you. I'm so very sorry Peter! I'm so…so…sorry…."

Peter lifted her face up to his and kissed her tears away. "You've nothing to apologize for Jo. How could I blame you darlin'? You've suffered a loss no woman should ever 'ave to." He enfolded her safely within his arms and whispered, "We'll never forget our little lass. She'll be in our 'earts for the rest of our lives. Let's work 'ard to put things right between us for 'er sake, what do you say?"

Jo found that she couldn't speak. She looked up into his shining eyes and nodded. He pulled her into a tender, gentle kiss and held her tightly, as if to never let her go. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and show her how much he'd missed her; however, he fully realized that they both still had a lot to work through before they resumed their normal level of intimacy. He also reckoned that Jo still needed more time to recover physically from the difficult delivery, so he contented himself for now with the immensely comforting sensation of her body lying willingly curled next to his.

He lay drowsing after Jo finally fell asleep in his arms and he swore to himself to take the hard-won lesson from their latest waltz with adversity. He quietly thanked God for Jo's apparent recovery as well as his experiences during the war, especially for the commanding officer that had taught him to learn and build off of life's unfair experiences rather than fill a reservoir with unbridled rage.

He gratefully tightened his grip on his wife and closed his eyes to finally drift into the first truly peaceful sleep he had known since that horrible night in hospital.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – Getting to Know You Again**

"_The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." - Theodore M. Hesburgh_

Peter rose to semi-consciousness the next morning blissfully aware of Jo lying curled within his arms, asleep. He lay silently replaying the previous day's events in his mind, praying it hadn't been just a temporary reprieve. Despite his having gotten nearly an entire day and night's worth of restful sleep for the first time in over two weeks, he still felt an overwhelmingly heavy weariness. He sleepily kissed Jo on her forehead and allowed his eyes to roll closed once again.

Jo opened her eyes just in time to see Peter fall back to sleep. She very quietly slipped out of his arms and off the bed. She leaned down to tuck the blanket up over his shoulders and then she headed out the door.

As she made her way down the hallway, the phone rang and she hurried to answer it before the noise awoke her still-sleeping husband. The caller expressed more than a little surprise at the voice which answered.

"Jo?", came Billy's confused voice.

Jo shook her head sadly at the astonishment in Billy's voice and gently replied, "Yes Billy, it's me."

"How…how are you Jo? How are…things goin'?" Billy had been expecting his mate Peter to answer the phone and thus started out a bit tongue tied. He took a deep breath and carried on. "I'm sorry Jo, I wasn't expectin' to be speakin' with you. Not that I'm sorry, no. I'm really glad you're feelin' better. You are, aren't you?"

Jo knew Billy wasn't the type to be easily flustered and felt a bit privileged that he'd been so obviously worried about her. "I'm much better than I was Billy. Not quite back yet though. It may take a little while."

"Thank the Good Lord for that! How's my mate Peter farin'?"

Jo sighed silently. _How is Peter faring indeed?_ She pushed her guilt to the background for now to answer Billy, "He's exhausted and sleeping right now. I can have him call you when he wakes if you like."

"No worries Jo, I'll let the both of you rest. I was just checkin' up like I promised. Do you need me to bring you anything? Food or such?"

"No, not that I know of. Thank you though, Billy. You're a good friend."

"Jo…would you mind if I tell the General things are lookin' up? He's been really worried about you two."

"Of course! Please give Rob my sincere thanks for his help and concern. Oh, and Billy?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind giving Mavis a call as well to let her know?" Jo smiled at the barely concealed excitement in Billy's voice as he replied.

"Would I! Uh, I mean, no I wouldn't mind at all. She'll probably ring you up later."

"That will be fine. Thank you again, Billy." She rang off and went to check on Peter. Thankfully, he slept on despite the noise made by the phone ringing. She crept over to give him a gentle kiss, then pulled the bedroom door partially closed as she made her way to the kitchen to see what she could find for lunch.

She opened the fridge to survey all the goodies left by her mother and pulled out a fully prepared Shepherd's Pie. She placed it in the oven to heat and then put the kettle on. She reckoned Peter would be ravenous once he awoke. They had both lost quite a bit of weight during the stresses of the past two weeks.

Jo had been near tears the previous morning when she first saw all the food her mum had prepared for them. _Oh mum, how did you know? _she sighed as she set about getting the table ready. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang again. She answered and Mavis' breathless voice greeted her.

"Jo?"

"Hello Mave."

"It _is_ you! My God Jo, I can't tell ya 'ow 'appy I am to 'ear yer voice! Billy said you'd been feelin' a lot better. I'm so glad for both you and Peter!"

Guilt overwhelmed Jo as she heard the relieved concern in Mavis' voice. "Oh Mave..." Her voice broke as she answered her sister-in-law. "I've hurt him so badly."

Mavis replied immediately. "Jo, you weren't in yer right mind. You were 'urtin' so bad and you were angry. Peter knows that! 'e isn't goin' to let this affect 'ow he feels about you!"

"But I deliberately hurt him Mave! Grievously so..." The image of her husband lying on the floor weeping uncontrollably flashed across her mind.

"Be that as it may Jo, you can't dwell on it! You just can't!" Mavis waited for a reply but none came. "Jo, listen to me. Peter loves you with all 'is 'eart. 'e isn't goin' to 'old anythin' against you. You're 'is whole life Jo! This is no one's fault!"

"I realize that Mave. I just don't know what to do to make it up to him!"

"Love 'im and take care of 'im just like you always 'ave. Don't let this tear you two apart anymore than it already 'as. Now's the time for this wound to begin to 'eal Jo. Yer a nurse, you should know 'ow to treat a wound."

Mavis was right of course. Wound treatment was one of the primary lessons a nurse learned. In order to heal safely and completely, a serious wound required a thorough examination followed by application of medication, stitches if needed, clean bandages, tender care and patience. The passage of time would let the injured tissue replenish itself with new, healthy growth.

_Patience...passage of time...tender care..._

"Jo? Are ya still there?"

"Oh...yes Mave. I was just...well, you've given me quite a bit to think on. I only hope that I haven't broken my husband's heart beyond repair."

"Trust me Jo, that would never 'appen. Never! Peter loves you far too much."

"I pray you're right Mave. If not, I've only got myself to blame."

"I don't want to 'ear that Jo. Now I want you to go and take care of me brother!"

Jo smiled despite herself, "Yes ma'am!"

"That's better! Give 'im a kiss for me, will ya luv?"

"I will Mave." She said her good-bye and rang off. She went to check on the Shepherd's Pie and then sank down onto the sofa. She shook her head as she contemplated the task that lay ahead; helping Peter recover physically would be child's play compared to helping him recover mentally and emotionally.

She couldn't help but become upset as she remembered the pain she felt when faced with his inconsolable grief. She buried her face in her hands; she so badly wanted comfort yet didn't think she deserved to ever feel comforted again. She sagged against the back of the sofa, then lifted her head when she heard the strains of a very familiar song.

_"We meet and the angels sing, The angels sing the sweetest song I ever heard. You speak and the angels sing, Or am I reading music into every word?"_

She raised her head to see Peter standing before her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. She hadn't even realized he had awoken. He held his arms out towards her invitingly as he smiled and asked, "May I 'ave this dance darlin'?"

Despite her distress, she couldn't help but smile back at him. This was 'their' song, the last song they danced to before they went up to their room at the Savoy for the grand finale to the happiest day of her life. She wiped her face as best she could and rose to step within his arms. He enfolded her in his embrace and they swayed together as one.

She gently nestled her head on his shoulder and listened to the steady beat of his heart. The music brought back fond memories and she suddenly recalled hearing Peter's voice gently reminiscing to her over the last few days. As a result, her thoughts drifted back to their honeymoon, or rather, to the day it came to an end. She and Peter were in the LeBeaus' guest room busily packing when she heard him chuckle out loud.

"What's so amusing love?"

He turned to her with a wide smile. "This 'as been the best two weeks of my life darlin'. I wish it didn't 'ave to end."

She frowned in puzzlement. "And that's funny because…?"

He immediately fell into a dead-on Humphrey Bogart impression. "Because, sweetheart, no matter what lies in the future, I can truthfully say 'we'll always have Paris'." He grimaced in classic Bogart fashion as he reached to place a hand under her chin and lift her face to his, "Here's looking at you kid."

He then leaned in to kiss her passionately and she returned his fire eagerly. "Why don't we bid adieu to Paris in true French fashion darlin'?" he murmured as he eased her down onto the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer.

"Mais oui mon amour!"

The sound of Peter's soft laughter snapped her out of her reverie. She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows in a silent query. He looked down at her and whispered, "We'll always 'ave Paris, remember?"

Now it was her turn to laugh as she realized that the currents of memory had swirled them both back to the exact same moment in time. As they continued dancing, he pulled back a bit to look at her to speak seriously this time. He couldn't get the image of her collapsed on the sofa out of his mind.

"Darlin' please don't torment yerself over this. I don't blame you for anythin'. Please believe me."

She laid a gentle hand on his bruised chest as she spoke. "But...I don't think I can live with how much I hurt you Peter!"

"We're both 'urt Jo, just in different ways. It just couldn't be 'elped. But it's over and done with. Be thankful we still 'ave each other. I don't think I could've survived the 'urt that would've come if we'd lost each other."

_We kiss, and the angels sing, And leave their music ringing in my heart._

As their song ended, Peter leaned in to tenderly kiss his wife. He led her over to the sofa and sat her down. "I promised the boys I'd call 'em when you got to feelin' better Jo. What d'ya say we call yer mum and dad?"

She nodded. She realized she had her work cut out for her and it was now time to move forward. "All right, darling."

* * *

><p>The boys were thrilled to hear their mum's voice over the phone that afternoon and were even more thrilled to see her when Angus and Mary brought them back home the next day.<p>

"Mum! Mum!" shouted Robbie as he ran through the front door ahead of both his younger brother and grandparents. Jo knelt down and extended her arms to her eldest son. "Oh mum! Da said you would get better!"

Jo kissed Robbie and held him tight. "Oh Robbie boy…." Andrew ran up as well and she reached to take him in her other arm. "My dears, I'm so very happy to see you! I love you so much!"

"We love you too mum!" said Andrew as he gave his mum a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Angus and Mary followed, with Angus carrying the box holding Callie. He called to his grandson, "Robbie, take yon cheetie. I'm sure she's just as glad tae be home as you are!"

"Ta grandad!" Robbie gave his mum another kiss before he pulled out of her embrace to retrieve his kitty. Jo lifted Andrew into her arms and stood up as her parents approached.

"Mum! Dad! I...I don't how to thank you..."

"Nae, none o'thot lass. What are parents for then?" Angus reached to lay a gentle hand on his daughter's face as he spoke and she met his eyes to see the emotion within. He smiled and took Andrew out of her arms so that Mary could embrace her.

"Oh mum," she whispered. "Thank you. I don't know what Peter would've done without you and dad."

"He would have found a way Jo. He loves you that much. You have good reason to be thankful my darling girl."

Jo nodded, unable to speak. _Yes mum, you're right. You're absolutely right!_

* * *

><p>After lunch, Peter and Angus took the boys to town to explore the canal, deliberately giving Jo and her mum a bit of privacy. Mary had immediately noticed that Peter and Jo seemed to have come to some sort of rapprochement and she sat her daughter down to ask her where things stood between she and her husband.<p>

"We're trying to get back to normal, mum we really are. But it's so difficult for me! I feel so guilty, yet I don't even remember most of what I did or said!" Jo dropped her head into her hands. "I do know that I hurt him terribly; I can see it in his eyes. He tries to hide it but he just can't." _And to think I nearly lost him forever not even a year ago!_ she thought bitterly. She raised her head to gaze at her mum.

"I do love him mum! I love him so much! I don't want this to tear us apart. I just didn't know how to overcome those horrible feelings!" She took her mother's hands in her own. "He was so sweet and considerate, yet he made me so angry! And I didn't know why! Each time he touched me I wanted to scream! It's like…like my body and mind automatically reacted before I even had time to think it out." She sighed, "Oh mum, I need to put things right between us. I don't want him to hate me for this! How can I ever explain it to you?"

Mary lowered her eyes before she spoke, "You don't need to explain it to me Jo. I…I know exactly what you are feeling right now." She raised her now tear-filled eyes to look Jo in hers. "We never told you…about the baby…boy your father and I lost…before you were born."

Jo stared at her mother, stunned into silence. Her sight blurred with tears at her mum's unexpected, sudden confession.

Mary nodded sadly. "Your father and I vowed not to try again until we had the matter settled between us. I'm not saying it was easy, because it wasn't. Jo, there's no one to blame for what happened to you just as there's no one to blame for what happened to me. You must accept that, my darling girl."

"I know that mum, but…but it's so…difficult!" Jo's voice broke at the last.

"As God is my witness Jo, I understand what you are saying." Mary reached to cup her hand against Jo's cheek. "You simply…must force yourself to overcome these feelings. You've got a fine lad in young Peter. He loves you Jo. He could never hate you, for I daresay he loves you more than life itself. You must remember that he is just as hurt and grieving as well. He doesn't show it because he's trying to be strong for you. You're still young my dear girl, with your whole life ahead of you and a good husband who wants you to spend it by his side. You've two fine young sons who need you Jo. Please don't lose all you have by continuing to bludgeon yourself with this guilt."

Jo realized what her mother was hinting at. "But...mum the doctors said I won't be able to have any more children."

Mary nodded knowingly and took Jo's chin in her hand. She looked her daughter in her eyes. "They said the same thing to me Jo. I don't think I have to tell you how that worked out, now do I?"

"They...they did?" Jo was having no small amount of difficulty trying to absorb all the revelations her mother had made to her. She took her mother's hand and asked, "Would it be too painful for you to please tell me how you and dad overcame this?"

* * *

><p>Angus and Mary left the next day and Peter and Jo struggled to resume a somewhat normal life. As they lay together in bed that night, Peter heard his wife unsuccessfully trying to hold back her tears. "Oh Jo...," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I didn't understand 'ow you felt."<p>

"There's nothing for you to apologize for darling. You stuck by me regardless. You love me. That's more than enough." She bowed her head and murmured, "Peter...mum finally told me."

He leaned over and grasped Jo's shoulder as he looked deep into her eyes. "I'm so sorry for your mum's loss darlin'. I wish neither of you 'ad to go through this."

Jo leaned into her husband's chest and he wrapped her securely within his arms. "I know love, I do too. I'm just so very sorry you've had to suffer as well."

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Ta darlin'. It's been 'ard on all of us, 'asn't it?"

She nodded forlornly and he pulled her away to arm's length. "We've gotta go forward Jo. We've got no choice. We can't sit 'ere feelin' sorry for ourselves. We do 'ave a lot to be grateful for." He gently lifted her chin up to gaze into her face. "Don't we?"

"Yes love, we do. I've two precious sons and a wonderful husband who loves me. What else...could...I..." She began sobbing and Peter pulled her back within his embrace.

"I know darlin'...I know," he soothed. "It'll take a while yet, I know." He gently caressed her cheek, trying to soothe her. "Let's rest for right now Jo."

* * *

><p><em>AN Benny Goodman's number one hit song, "And the Angels Sing" was written in 1939; lyrics by Johnny Mercer, music by Ziggy Elman, sung by Martha Tilton. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – And Thus Life Goes On**

_"He is not a lover who does not love forever." - Euripides_

Peter rang the base first thing the next morning to speak with Billy. "Jo told me you called yesterday. I want to thank ya for all yer 'elp mate."

"No worries Peter, I was glad to do it. I'm also glad that Jo's on the road to recovery."

"Thanks mate. We are too. Is the General on base today?"

"Not right now, but I expect him back by this afternoon."

"Listen Billy, would ya please give me a shout when 'e gets back? I really need to speak with 'im."

"Will do mate. Take care."

"Ta Billy, you too." Peter rang off, then went to join Jo and the boys for a late breakfast. They spent the rest of the morning catching up on household chores that had understandably fallen by the wayside. Jo prepared a quick luncheon from the variety of items her mum had left, then she and Peter relaxed on the sofa afterwards as the boys tired themselves out in playing outdoors.

Jo reluctantly pulled herself from Peter's arms to collect the boys and bring them inside for a nap. Peter gave each of them a quick hug and then watched as Jo led them to their room. "I'll be right 'ere waitin' for ya darlin'!" he called after her.

She gave him a smile in reply as she stepped into the boys' room. Peter leaned back and closed his eyes with a contented sigh, thankful that things were slowly but surely on the way back to normal.

His eyes snapped open when he heard a knock at the front door. He jumped up to answer it and was surprised to see General Hogan. "General? Uh, come in, come in! I asked Billy to give me a call when you returned, you didn't 'ave to..."

"No, I didn't have to Peter. I _wanted_ to come and see you two when Billy told me the good news about you and Jo."

"Well," Peter looked down as he spoke. "We've still got a lot to work through but I'm 'appy to say I've got me Jo back." He gestured towards the lounge and then grasped Hogan's arm to pull him close. He leaned in and whispered, "Were you able to get the…?"

The General interrupted with a quick nod, "Yes, Mavis sent it over from London the day before yesterday and I asked Billy to leave it on your desk. I think you'll be very pleased Peter."

Newkirk nodded slowly. "Thank you Rob." He closed the door and ushered the General into the lounge. "'ave a seat, I'll go get Jo. She's puttin' the boys down for their nap. Just 'old on a tick, I'll be right back!"

"Peter wait just a minute," called the General.

"Yes sir?" Peter doubled back and stood expectantly before his commanding officer. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what the General was going to say.

"Before you bring Jo in, I need to know your status as to...well, as to when you think you'll be able to come back on duty. I'm sorry Peter, but I need my Air Attaché with me for this round of inspections. I've already begun at Brize Norton and I really need you to accompany me when I finish there and then on for the rest."

Peter nodded, "I understand General. If it were left to me, I'd say I could be back within the week but I'd like to discuss it wi' Jo first and see 'ow she's feelin' if you don't mind."

"That's fine Peter, just let me know as soon as possible." The General looked down for a moment and then back at his English friend, a rueful smile on his face. "Life goes on, with or without us."

Peter replied thoughtfully, "That it does, sir, that it does. I'll go get Jo." He headed down the hallway to retrieve his wife.

Jo hurried into the lounge and the General stood to take her in a warm embrace. She murmured, "Oh Rob, thank you so much for your forbearance. I'm sorry Peter has had to take so much time off, it's all my fault."

Hogan pulled back and spoke gently, yet forcefully. "Belay that talk Jo! None of this is your fault! It's no one's fault. Things like this take time. I'm so very sorry this happened to the two of you, but I'm also very glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you Rob." Jo pulled out of the General's arms and gestured for him to sit back down. She sat next to him on the sofa and Peter settled into the large arm chair. He leaned forward as he decided to go ahead and broach the subject of his returning to duty in front of the General.

"Jo, the General 'as asked me when I can return to duty. 'e's beginning a round of inspections and…"

Jo cut him off, "And you should be with him, love. It is your job after all."

"But darlin' I don't want to leave you if yer not ready."

Hogan took Jo's hand and looked into her eyes. "Jo, I certainly don't want Peter leaving if you're not ready yet."

She peered back into the General's dark brown eyes, grateful for the compassion she saw shining from within. "Life must go on Rob. I must _make_ myself ready. One request though?"

"Anything for you, Jo."

"May I keep him home with me through the weekend? I promise he is yours to do with as you please after that."

The General chuckled and released her hand. "Sounds like a fair exchange to me!"

"Oh Cor! What 'ave I gotten meself into?" sighed Peter. He shook his head as he stood up. "I think I'll go make a pot of coffee. Would you like some Rob?"

"Sounds great Peter."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure 'bout this darlin'?" Peter glanced apprehensively over at Jo as he pulled the car out of the drive the next morning.<p>

She reached to gently grasp his arm as she nodded. "Yes darling, I'm quite sure. I feel this is something I need to do before you go back on duty."

"All right love," sighed Peter. He glanced in the rear view mirror to check on the boys as they sat unusually quietly in the back seat. They had immediately sensed their parents' anxiety and remained cautiously well-behaved. Peter winked at them. "Don't worry boys. Everythin' will be all right. Robbie, mind that plant now."

"Yes Da," murmured Robbie as he carefully balanced a ceramic pot on his lap.

They made the rest of the drive to the Newtown Road Cemetery in silence. When they arrived, Peter parked the car and got out first. He walked around to open the passenger door for Jo and helped her out of the car. He then leaned inside the open window to speak to Robbie and Andrew. "Boys, would you mind stayin' in the car for just a minute? I'll come get you, I promise. Yer mum just needs a moment to 'erself right now."

Both Robbie and Andrew nodded nervously. Peter gave them a sad smile as he continued, "Don't worry lads. Yer mum'll be all right. She'll be sad for a long time yet, but I don't think she'll get sick like she was before. She loves you boys more than anythin'. Never forget that."

The boys didn't seem to share his confidence, so Peter opened the door to pull the front seat up out of the way so he could lean in to give each of his sons a hug. "'ang tight, I'll be right back."

Peter took his wife's hand and led her along the Children's Path to the newest and smallest grave in that particular section of the cemetery. Jo stood uncertainly for a moment, then she felt her legs nearly give out. She took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly knelt down beside the tiny grave. Peter crouched beside her and put a supportive arm around her shoulder as she reached out to tenderly caress the letters carved onto the marble headstone.

_Abigail Darnley Newkirk, 12 November 1953_

_Though a flower may not bloom,_

_In our hearts, we still know the beauty of its blossom._

"Oh Peter," cried Jo. "That…that is…so lovely…." She collapsed against his chest in uncontrollable sobs and he wrapped her securely within his arms.

"You 'ave Mave to thank for that sentiment Jo. She found it and we thought it'd…it'd fit…," his voice broke and he couldn't continue. He sat down and pulled Jo to his side whilst he waited for each of them to calm down somewhat. He then arose to go fetch the boys from the car.

Robbie approached his mum, set the plant down on the ground and wrapped his arms around Jo's neck. "Mum, I'm sorry you're so sad," he whispered.

Jo gave him a kiss and pulled him up onto her lap. "Thank you darling."

Peter sat down beside Jo with Andrew in his arms. Andrew leaned over and gave his mum a kiss. She kissed him in return and gently caressed his hair as she murmured, "Thank you dear." She glanced at Peter, then wiped away her remaining tears and rapidly composed herself. "Where shall we plant the calla lilies boys?"

* * *

><p>The following Monday, Peter reluctantly left to report back for duty. Jo reassured him that she would be fine and that if she needed anything, she would call him immediately. However, she never got the chance to as he called at least ten times throughout his first day back at the base. His last call had been to tell her that he would be leaving that week to accompany the General on an extended inspection tour. He had been anxious and apologetic, in contrast to her pride and happiness for him.<p>

"Please darling, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I have the boys here. Mum, Dad and Mave aren't that far away should I need anything."

"I know that love, but all the same, I'm askin' Billy to keep in touch with you if you don't mind."

She sighed and gave in, knowing his actions were motivated only by his love for her. "All right, I suppose that will be fine. How long will you and the General be gone?"

"Six days, five nights," Peter sighed as well. "A bleedin' eternity!"

She couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration. "Now, now love, you'll be back before you know it!"

"I'm already countin' the 'ours darlin'! Cor, the General just walked in. Bye for now!"

As soon as Peter rang off, she set about packing his duffel for his upcoming trip. She let the boys help her and she took the opportunity to explain that their Da was going to be away on business for a few days.

After dinner, Peter helped Jo tidy up in the kitchen and then he spent some time with the boys whilst Jo took care of some ironing. When their bedtime approached, he volunteered to tuck them in and then returned to join his wife in the lounge. She was just putting away the last of the ironing when he approached to take her hand.

"Jo, I…I want to give you somethin' before I leave."

Peter sat Jo down on the sofa and then went out to the car. He returned holding a tissue wrapped package, which he handed to his wife. Jo looked at him peculiarly and he sat down beside her, motioning for her to unwrap it.

"What...what is...it?" asked Jo, her voice quavering with emotion as she opened the box to lift out a wooden plaque.

Peter took a deep breath, "It's a bud from the flowers Rob sent for Abby's funeral. It was...so little and so…perfect, I picked it out from the graveside and 'ad it preserved. Mave 'ad the plaque made in London. She, Billy and Rob paid for it. It's their...their tribute and...and..." He stopped as his own voice began to shake. _No! Get through this without breakin' down!_ he told himself. He reeled his emotions back under control and finished, "This is their tribute and remembrance to our precious Abby."

Jo stared at the perfectly formed pink rosebud mounted under glass onto the beautiful mahogany plaque. A sterling silver insert carried a simple inscription which read _"In loving remembrance of our little darling, Abigail Darnley Newkirk, 12 November 1953. All our love, Mummie, Daddy, Robbie, Andrew, Auntie Mave, Uncle Rob and Uncle Billy."_

"Oh Peter!" Jo broke down and he took the plaque from her to set it on the side table before he pulled her tightly into his embrace. He finally allowed himself to give way to tears as well and they simply sat there within each other's arms, grieving together.

* * *

><p>The night before he was to leave, Peter reached to draw his wife close for a goodnight kiss as he did every night before they went to sleep; however, this time he suddenly felt compelled to take her hand, turn it over and tenderly press his lips to its' palm. The barely restrained desire of his kiss resonated deeply within her and she reached to caress his face with her other hand. He raised his head, silent longing in his eyes, as he murmured "G'night darlin'. I love you."<p>

She reached to bring his face to hers and leaned in to kiss him passionately. He unmistakably got her message, for he pulled away to look deep within his wife's eyes as he whispered, "Are you sure yer ready darlin'?"

She saw the longing in his eyes immediately give way to loving concern and she nodded as she murmured, "Yes love. I've never been more sure of anything as I am of this." She took his hands and urged him to come closer. "Please darling. I want you."

_I want you._ Three simple words. _I want you._ Three simple words that filled his eyes with tears. _I want you._ Three simple words that he had been hoping and praying to hear for such a long time. _I want you._ Three simple words that unleashed the desire he had willingly kept at bay ever since they reconciled. _I never stopped wanting you,_ he thought as he wrapped Jo in his arms and pulled her body to his.

Peter awoke the next morning with Jo still curled up in his arms. He snuggled her even closer and gently kissed the top of her head, grateful for her love as he reflected on the previous night. They had loved and explored each other with a mutually renewed tenderness, as if each of them were painfully aware of what they had so very nearly lost.

He counted himself fortunate to have such a woman in his arms. A strong woman who loved him with all her heart, despite their tragedy and sorrow. He resolved to leave the agony of this sadness behind and move forward for the sake of his family. He swore to carry on despite the pain, keeping the memory of his daughter Abby forever in his heart. Peter chuckled to himself as he came to a sudden realization. _Mama was right! Despite the loss of our little Abby, I am a fortunate bloke!_

* * *

><p>Peter left that day on the inspection tour and thus life went on as it always does. He and Jo struggled to put the trauma of Abby's death behind them. As they took things a day at a time to gradually rebuild their lives, the days blurred into weeks, which in their turn, became months, then years. They finally reached the point where they resigned themselves to the fact that they were not destined to have any more children.<p>

**END**

_A/N As I noted in an earlier chapter, Peter and Jo's further experiences will be continued in future, standalone stories. Thanks for reading!_


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